


Lapidary

by Savaial



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Angst, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Not instant smut, deeper understanding, finally talking, no tragedy, of course, stand alone fic, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 80,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5260058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savaial/pseuds/Savaial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are tired.  Eventually, everyone must stop running.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I’m so glad to see him, so glad he’s alive, but he hasn’t even looked at me once since his men dragged me in here. He’s writing something on thick, vellum-like paper, using the beautiful calligraphy of this culture he’s taken control of with the ease of a native. It probably took him less than a few hours to learn it. Like me, he’s good with languages.

We’re more alike than we are different. That reality has made me lie awake many times.

I wonder why he’s complying with the low tech of this planet. Maybe he’s enjoying the softer light of these candles and oil lamps; he’s very much the sort. Fire is raw, elemental power. Like him. The orange and yellow, flickering light makes his face look so young, and his skin glow golden.

Point of fact, the Master looked healthy. He’d overcome his unstable state, apparently. I was thankful for that. Not only did I want him in good health, I preferred it if he didn’t eat sentient beings. Humans were just another animal to eat, and I understood his reasoning despite loving human beings, but I couldn’t condone it. If he hadn’t been starving I didn’t think I could have forgiven him for it. Still, as Kahlil Gibran posed, even Good will eat in dark caves when hungry and drink stagnant water when thirsty. I forgot the original phrasing.

I looked away from the Master, focusing instead on the décor, the furnishings. This room screamed of his influence. Rich, dark wood paneling with burgundy trim, tasteful stained glass windows, books, scrolls, hanging charts. Thick carpeting in light tan… it looked ultra soft and I could bet it was. The smell of copal permeated anything the slightest bit porous. His scent. The moment I stepped off the TARDIS I’d smelled him.

The Master dragged his brush through the pool of ink in the middle of the sumi-type dried ink block, his arm extending gracefully close to the candles on his desk. The transparently fine shirt he wore went see-through at the sleeve, showing me his elongated, attractive musculature. I bemoaned that I could never compete with his perpetual beauty. He was always handsome, with a few notable exceptions.

But, that was the Master all over, wasn’t it? The danger of him. I’d contemplated that evil is generally seductive, mainly when thinking of him. He was a compelling creature from top to bottom, lapidary and polished. He gleamed like the only piece of silver in a pile of coal. One couldn’t _not_ notice him, ever. He radiated his superiority. Even his voice commanded full attention. He could caress the ears of a multitude while doing heinous things, rarely encountering resistance.

Most people are so eager for beauty and charisma, and so very quick to ally with it.

My legs had gone to sleep standing here, but I wouldn’t ask to sit even though these chains were incredibly heavy. He’d only mock me, or knock me down. In the past, his threat of violence had never meant his bare hands. Not even his gloved hands, actually. I didn’t know why he’d opted for slapping me when I was at his mercy in the Naismith Mansion, only that he hadn’t hit me as hard as he probably wanted. For him, it had been light enough to be a love tap. A warning. _I’m not playing around, here, Doctor._

A knock came at his door. The Master set his work aside, rose with enviable grace, and answered. He accepted a heavy gold tray laden with covered platters and spouted pots of delicate porcelain. Spinning, he shut the door with his foot and put the tray on the desk right in front of me. I started in surprise as he simply unchained me and dragged a chair over.

He meant for me to eat.

Hesitantly, I poked around to find a thick steak and a large serving of what looked to be wild rice pilaf. Feeling awkward, I sat down and slowly cut into the meat. Not looking over at me, the Master said lowly, “It isn’t poisoned, Doctor. You’re going to need your strength, so eat.”

Thinking he meant to make sport of me later if he wanted my strength built up, I obeyed him. Everything tasted wonderful. The meat was perfectly cooked, but it wasn’t beef. I didn’t recognize it. The rice pilaf contained spices also unfamiliar and complimentary. I discovered something very like chocolate rum torte for dessert, and ate that with rather less caution than the first part of dinner. Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought I saw the Master’s lips twitch as if amused.

When I explored the spouted, porcelain servers, I discovered a wonderful black and green blend of tea. It smelled of chrysanthemum, slightly. There were two cups on saucers, so I served him, too, careful to not disturb whatever occupied him so much. Because he’d taken his tea with one sugar cube when we were children, I added one to his cup and stuck a spoon in. I then attended my own.

“When did you learn patient silence?” The Master asked, accepting my tea offering. His slim, strong fingers manipulated a spoon twice in the piping hot brew before threading into the delicate cup handle. He finally lifted his gaze to mine, and I shivered at the predatory intelligence captured in bottled-sherry colored eyes. “Are you ill?” He prompted.

“No,” I managed to say.

“No?” He repeated softly. “What did change your basic, frenetic verbosity into stoicism, then?”

“Dunno. I didn’t feel… _subdued_ until recently.” I glanced meaningfully at the pile of chains littering his floor.

The Master groaned at my joke, but he smiled, too, and it was a good kind of smile, like pleasure taken in something familiar. He set his cup down to roll up his work, now that it had dried, and tucked the scroll between several others so it wouldn’t unwind. “You feel… _subdued_ because of high ion bombardment,” he informed. “This building causes it, actually.”

“Medicating?” I caught on fairly fast. “It’s working. You look well.”

“Thank you.” The Master finished his tea and lit a clove cigarette. He took two long drags before blowing a smoke ring over my hand. “I rarely give warning shots, Doctor, but I sometimes make an exception for you, so let me inform that I can hear every little thought going on in that chaotic head of yours.”

“Oh.” Normally, I’d feel a bit embarrassed for that, but he and I were attuned to each other in ways few Time Lords accomplished with one another. Also, my pleasure at seeing him doubtless made me an open book. I closed off my foveal mind quickly. “Sorry about that,” I apologized.

“No need to apologize.” The Master stubbed out his fragrant cigarette, positively mashing it to atoms in the previously pristine, crystal ashtray. “Feel like a stroll to aid the digestion?”

Well, here it came, my destruction or my humiliation, whichever pleased him better at the moment. I got up and again felt surprise, for he didn’t make a move to secure me in any way, nor did he point a weapon at me. He did take a rapier from the wall, but strapped it to himself and left it in the scabbard. “Do you want one?” He asked, pointing to the sword’s twin.

“Is it dangerous for me to not have one?” I asked.

The Master favored me with a charismatic grin. “No,” he answered. “But, this is a feudal planet, Doctor, and I’m a fairly new emperor. I expect to be tried and tested for awhile until people see I’m no one to fall foul of.”

I hadn’t held a sword since fighting the Sycorax, and in general wasn’t enamored of any weapon. Still, I might be able to prevent him from killing someone if I carried a sword, too. “Where are you taking me?” I asked as I reached for the rapier. This might be a ploy. He might want me armed so that I’d make better entertainment when he kicked me stark naked into a pit of befanged beasties.

“I thought I’d show you around a little, be your tour guide,” he said, opening the door. “This place isn’t without interest, even to a cosmos-politan traveler like you.”

“Okay.” I’d go with it. I’d never learn what he was up to otherwise.

The Master led me into the hallway and down to the inner court, where I’d been captured. “My guards caught you because your presence triggered reactions in the potted plants,” he explained, pointing to some aggressive looking vegetation beside the doors. “You were fortunate the plants sensed you were like me; I hacked down their kin for trying to take a bite out of me.”

I looked at the open, yawning maw of fibrous teeth beside me and nodded. He led me out the double doors, and we instantly gained an entourage of half a dozen guards. They flanked us and remained silent. The Master turned around to walk backward while he addressed them. “Twenty feet,” he commanded, and they fell back to that distance immediately. “I dislike having people behind me,” he complained to me aside, in a voice of disclosure. “Still, if I have them in front of us, they’ll spoil the view.”

“Might be safer,” I pointed out.

The Master shrugged in a careless way. “I don’t anticipate having to deal with ordinary citizens, or even malcontents. At present I only have to contend with the odd assassin, and they don’t usually strike during the day. It’s against their beliefs. Death should not fall in the daylight.”

“That’s… interesting,” I said. And, it was. “Any Vashta Nerada here?”

“They’re everywhere, as you well know,” the Master said. “Isn’t this pretty grass, Doctor?”

I looked at the rolling landscape for the first time. Even on the way here I’d been so focused upon finding him that I hadn’t paid attention to the vista. Sloppy of me. But, he had a point; the grass was pretty, a sort of silvery grey and light refractive. “It is,” I agreed. I stopped to feel it. It was very soft and fine, and reminded me of rabbit fur. “You don’t need a blanket when you picnic.”

The Master grinned again. “Food, food, food, but never anything nutritious,” he said, meaning me. “Your perfect picnic is six different candies, three types of sugary drinks, and maybe those greasy, newspaper-wrapped chips you like so much.”

He projected his opinion with _fondness_ , which made my heart swell with hope. I didn’t feel like smothering that hope for self-protection anymore, and I dreaded the next few seconds because of that. But, the Master didn’t add anything horrible, or biting, which left me to wonder if I would survive the ax falling on me later. “Candy would be nice,” I said. “Do you have any?”

The Master began patting his pockets. He pulled out a small paper bag and handed it over without preamble. “Transgalactic Supply Company,” he explained as I looked at Jelly Babies. “I’m their number one shareholder, by the way.”

I pondered his business dealings as I munched multicolored, gelatinous sugar treats. The Master usually had a lot of irons in a lot of fires. He was very capable of doing honest business, and did more often than not. “How did you get here?” I asked.

“I had a TARDIS parked on Ghoen,” he said, which gave me a small shock. “I stole a vortex manipulator and aimed it there.” He eyed me askance and smiled a little bit. “A Type 74.”

“Fancy,” I drawled. “Soooo… emperor?”

“I don’t serve,” the Master told me with cool precision. “I wanted this planet. It isn’t any more complicated than that.”

“Well, where is the old emperor buried?” I asked.

“He isn’t dead. He descended peacefully.” The Master led me to the perimeter of a vast, still lake the color of blue slate. There was a long dock, and a smallish craft moored at the end. “He’d lost control long before I came along, and seemed rather grateful for a dignified overthrowing rather than falling victim to poison or assassins.” He stopped us at the boat and had a long look at it. “You can either do the rowing, or we’ll take a man with us,” he informed.

Thinking to minimize the Master’s threat level to innocent people, I opted for taking up the oars. “I’ll row,” I told him.

“Excellent. You’re as polite as a guest as you are as a host, Doctor.”

We got in, and I got situated. “Which direction?”

“Toward the tall, white tower in the distance,” he said, lounging back. He looked toward the guards next. “Back to the senate,” he said, and they dispersed.

“This seems rather inconvenient, having to row to work,” I said, obediently taking us in a westerly direction.

“Walking is seen as common,” he explained. “They have horse-like creatures here, but I don’t like them. Most animals don’t take to me well.”

“They know a predator on sight,” I murmured, but he heard me. A delighted smile plastered onto his face.

We were silent until reaching about halfway across, doing a lot of looking at each other. The Master told me to stop rowing. When I did, he took a bag of light green pellets from under his seat. “You’ll like these,” he said, tossing out three handfuls in rapid succession. “Rainbow koi from their Jurassic period. The old emperor had the only ones left on the planet, and I set them to breeding.”

I peered over to see exactly what he said I would; rainbow colored carp. They were huge and graceful and caught the evening light very well. I tossed out a jelly baby, and it promptly got snatched. The fish was so big he made a sizable splash when submerging again. “They _are_ pretty,” I admitted. “Despite being glorified goldfish, they have meat eating teeth, however.”

“They do eat meat, but they don’t swarm and attack like piranha,” he said. “You could swim among them if you wanted, because they also don’t appear to like meat shaped like us.”

“Funny,” I muttered. “The plants were hateful but the meat-eating fish aren’t.”

“Nearly every animal on this planet is an herbivore,” the Master replied. “The plants have learned aggression as a matter of course.” He threw out a few more handfuls of food before gesturing me to continue on.

“This is exercise,” I halfway complained as we neared the shore.

“Quit your whinging,” he shot back. “You chose to row so I couldn’t kill a guard. I know how you operate.”

“Were you planning to?” I asked suspiciously.

“Of course not. My guards are useful and valuable.” The Master slid a smile my way that could fuel a small sun. “As are you, Doctor.”

“You can’t keep me,” I warned in the lightest tone possible.

“I have no intention of restraining you in any way,” he countered smoothly. “I only left the chains on you so long because you happen to look good in them.”

I didn’t know what to think or say about that, so I kept quiet and finished getting us to the tower.

 

**

 

“Is this your bedroom?” I asked, knowing full well it was. The room was drenched in his scent. It had the vanilla quality of sleep, adding to the copal in a pleasing way. I’d never smelled a place where he slept, so this was new.

“I sleep here at times, yes,” he confirmed, walking to a large closet. “I need to change clothes before I take you near the palace. I’m expected to wear the traditional garb of an emperor. Makes my subjects feel more secure.”

“They accept you, though,” I said, knowing that to be right even though I had nothing to back it up.

“Yes.” The Master took off his finely made shirt to reveal his finely made upper body. “In eight months I’ve eradicated a lot of starvation and money-draining, rich-bitch projects of government. These people were hungry.” He paused in taking off his trousers, looking up as if a thought had suddenly occurred. “I sympathized with that,” he said. “Even before the ravenous hunger I experienced from a botched resurrection I never starved people to gain control over them. It seemed gauche and pointless. Real hunger has a way of dampening fear, too.” He shucked his trousers, and I turned away before I could get a glimpse of his bits.

Not that I wasn’t a little curious.

“You can turn around, Mother Theresa,” the Master said dryly. “A svond doesn’t take long to put on.”

I turned to see him wearing a cheongsam nearly floor length, made of black silk. “Are you naked under that thing?” I blurted.

“There’s no such thing as underwear here unless you’re female,” he answered, putting on a white over-robe. Barefoot, he went to his mirror and had a look at himself.

“You look like you’re wearing a night gown,” I told him.

“Don’t be ridiculous. The colors would be reversed in that instance.” The Master ran a hand through his hair. He took a pair of black straw sandals from the closet and sat to put them on. He had nice feet, naturally. High arches, slim configuration, toes that looked like they’d never been squashed in shoes and boots, and perfectly pedicured. “Unlike you, I am able to wear a disguise.”

“You consider the robes of state a disguise.”

“Yes. They don’t have a word for ‘master’ here. This is a planet full of people who think it’s more noteworthy to remain a scholar. Even these so-called robes of state reflect their schools of learning.” The Master wriggled his toes before standing. “Now, we go to where I actually live, the palace. This tower is my ‘get away from it all’ place.”

“I didn’t see servants on the way in,” I pointed out.

“I’m never here longer than six or eight hours. Any more than that and I get pulled away to deal with something. The old emperor had really let things go, I tell you.” The Master led me back out and down, down, down. We hit bottom and he took me outside to a waiting, saddled animal. It did look a lot like a horse, I had to admit. But, it had paws instead of hooves, and scales instead of hair.

The Master took off the saddle and gave a short sigh. “If I didn’t like the clean air so much, I’d promote industrialization,” he said. “Get on behind me. These things are irritatingly hard to get used to, and you’ll fall off if you play guide.” With that, he grabbed a big handful of mane and vaulted on.

I did as he said, and immediately understood what he meant. The animal didn’t even feel like a horse, and its skin shifted alarmingly before snapping back to less tensile qualities. I grabbed the Master quickly, getting an arm around his waist. “I see,” I said in his ear.

He shivered. “Your voice is quite something else from a half inch away,” he said mildly, mysteriously. “Hold on tight, Doctor; there’s only one speed.”

We took off so fast I nearly fell off despite his warning. In six, hearts-stopping minutes we’d gone very far. I estimated that many miles. The palace came into view, and less than a minute passed before we were entering the courtyard. The Master allowed me to dismount, then followed suit. Three people took charge of his reptilian steed, and three more met him to talk as he walked inside.

The Master made short, efficient work of solving varied problems, speaking their language perfectly without the help of a TARDIS. He sent the men on their way after one of them made an inquiry about his harem. He gave me a look as they left, an expression of one part exasperation, one part humor, and two parts irritation. “They want me to fill it,” he said, though I saw he knew I’d followed everything. “I’m not interested.”

“Really?” I tugged at my earlobe as I considered that. “You had your hands all over Lucy Cole.”

“Lucy Saxon,” he corrected, leading me down a long, serpentine marble corridor full of paper covered oil lamps. “Don’t degrade her by forgetting I did actually marry her.”

“You care about the marriage rites of primitive societies?” I asked leadingly.

“It isn’t the ceremony, but the ownership,” he informed in a tight, hard voice. “Ownership is a more complete definition.”

“Well, fine, let’s drop that topic and go back to the harem,” I suggested. “You seem a bit… earthy this time around, for lack of a more polite definition.”

“You mean carnally inclined.” The Master took us down another corridor, then made a hard left. “A harem isn’t about meaningless sex, as much as it might seem that way. You’ve evidently never had one.”

“And you have?”

“Once was enough. It’s too much of a headache to even enjoy the rampant fucking. Someone’s always trying to get knocked up by the king, and then trying to promote their child over six others afterward. Also, assassins can have beautiful breasts. Lastly, finding good eunuch guards is damned hard.” The Master opened a door and beckoned me to look inside.

I saw about three dozen men and women milling about totally nude. “What?” I asked, an automatic lift to my voice and volume with pure startlement.

“Hopefuls,” the Master said. “When your résumé is getting starkers, it sort of simplifies things, doesn’t it?”

I couldn’t help it. I bent over double to laugh. He shut the door and tugged me down another corridor while I still chuckled.

Once we occupied yet another bedroom, the Master shed his sandals and stretched out on a huge bed covered in velvet blankets. “So, Doctor,” he said. “How long are you staying? Shall I order a guest bedroom prepared?”

Sobering, I sat on the edge and looked down at him. “You know I couldn’t possibly rest,” I answered.

“I promise this isn’t some ploy to destroy or humiliate you,” he replied easily. “I’m very busy with this project, and I could use your input.”

I stared at him in silent shock. He hadn’t admitted to thinking I was useful, not in that way, for a long time. I was so surprised that I spoke with no inclination to lie. “What are your projects?”

“Well, there’s step-farming, which the citizens aren’t convinced of, and the plans for the city’s aqueducts, plumbing, and ventilation,” he said, ticking things off on fingers as he went. “Also, the domestication of their food animals. They’ve got some notion it’s a good idea to keep the animals penned up for convenience and just chalking it up to nature when they peck and dismember each other.” He paused and rolled his eyes upward. “And, then there’s the schooling. They aren’t religiously opposed to including the females in their institutions, but it’s a near thing.”

“Well, I would expect you to simply order things the way you want them,” I said.

“You still don’t understand. When I said they have no word for ‘master’, did that only mean to you that they couldn’t understand my name?”

“Ahhh,” I said. “The title of emperor is like England’s queen. Powerful and powerless at the same time.”

“Yes. I can order all I like, but hard government simply doesn’t exist here, yet. This is practically an anarchy, and has been one since their civilization spawned from the seas.” The Master put his arms behind his head and twitched a foot in rhythm. “These people respect power, which helps a little, and they seem to understand that my edicts eventually cause beneficial change, now. Still, I welcome your help with them.”

“Rome wasn’t built in a day,” I conceded. I took his only chair and occupied it. First off, I couldn’t believe he actually wanted me here. Second, that he’d want my help. But, he did seem sincere. “So, are you making a go of this?” I asked. “Is this home, now?”

“For awhile. I’m running an experiment on myself as well as on this world.” The Master tapped one-two-three-four on his thigh a few times while he considered his words. “I don’t affect change in unselfish ways; that just isn’t my style. But, I’d like to be as complete as possible here. You know, give it my best effort.”

“You never give less than everything when there’s a goal in mind,” I pointed out.

“No, I usually only give eighty percent,” he corrected. “One hundred percent would have already made me the Master of all Matter, and you’d be dead, wouldn’t you? At the very least, enslaved.”

Disquieted, I only watched him and tried to come up with something intelligent to say. It was probably true that twenty percent more effort would have me dead by his hand, for he was a vicious, thorough enemy. I thought he’d kept me alive on the Valiant only because keeping me alive meant more suffering.

“What sort of experiment are you doing on yourself?” I asked at last.

“I’m trying to prove they haven’t ruined me,” he said, shocking me to my core. He’d meant our people, there. He meant the drums. “I don’t like the idea that they’ve won,” he added. “I’m independent, and I don’t appreciate being used, Doctor.” He sat up and looked out his large, picture window, away from me. “It occurred to me that you are the only person I’ve ever known who hasn’t tried to use me. You’ve been… reactive. You never start anything, just finish it.”

I dry swallowed. “I didn’t think you realized that.”

“There’s a lot I understood and knew but found difficult to focus upon.” The Master got up and began pacing, his lovely feet flexing bare upon the carpet covered marble floor. “This planet is my first attempt at full comprehension of myself. I only _thought_ I knew me, Doctor.”

Oh, I knew what he meant. Standing before Davros, hearing what he had to say about me, had hurt. It had torn me down to nothing to look at myself with honesty. I was the biggest liar I knew, and I lied to myself as much as to others. The Master must have felt the same way once he saw he’d been driven mad and used as a tool of Time Lord treachery; I’d never gotten along with our people, but he’d had a real relationship of antagonism with them from start to finish.

“They always stifled you,” I murmured, watching his eyes move in my direction. “I thought they singled you out for stifling, actually. Made an example of you.”

The Master gave a short, sighing sort of exhale and stopped pacing. “You saw that?” He asked. “I wondered if that wasn’t a fancy of mine.” He opened his door and ordered tea I hadn’t heard of before, then shut it again. “So, will you stay a few days?”

“Yeah,” I heard myself say. “I’ll take a turn at diplomacy, see if I can’t convince people to let their daughters go to school, to treat the farm animals better, and to take a shot at step farming.”

“Excellent.” The Master walked to a medium sized gong by his door, picked up the strike and got ready to swing it down. “I’ll have a room prepared for you.”

I took the gong strike out of his hand and looked down at him. “You know I can’t possibly sleep without knowing where you are.”

He met my sober stare with one of his own. “You’ll be nervous if you don’t know where I am,” he reiterated. A small frown rippled through his handsome face. “What should I do, then? You can’t sleep in here with me.”

“Why not? Do you carry your selfishness that far? Your bed is huge. We wouldn’t even be close to each other.”

For my initial answer, the Master gave me a look that made me wonder what I’d missed. He angled his body, leaning to the left, away from me, and cocked a hip while tilting his head. “The bed isn’t as big as you think. My hunting cats sleep with me.”

I heard an omission. There was another reason he didn’t want me in here, even if that first one proved valid. It made me doubly suspicious. I crossed my arms to show I wouldn’t budge. “Here, or I get in my TARDIS and hare off.”

The Master’s narrowed eyes gleamed with an emotion I couldn’t pin down. He nodded, but reluctantly. “Well, I’ll introduce you to the cats, then. They should know you before you start hogging their side of the bed.”

I followed the Master all the way back outside, where he aimed for a copse of trees several hundred meters distant. “I said that _nearly_ all the animal life on this planet is of a vegetarian frame, not all,” he reminded. “Only the emperor is allowed to keep these cats, and for some reason, only the emperor can control them. I can’t narrow it down. It’s a mystery.”

“That is odd,” I agreed. I felt thankful we hadn’t had to ride out to this small forest, but wondered why his estate was so widely scattered. He had his glorified office, a getaway tower, and a palace, but not clustered together. “Maybe the cats recognize the clothing? Are you the only one who dresses in a nightgown and dressing gown?”

“It’s a svond,” the Master said sourly.

“It’s a gown,” I insisted. “You’re even barefoot; you forgot your slippers.”

“Just shut up,” he shot back. “Your chatter will make the cats tense, and you don’t want that.”

I lagged behind a moment or two to take my shoes off as well, because the grass looked so tempting. I had to run to catch up, but I did like the rabbit fur softness under my feet. There weren’t any hard stones or sticks to poke me. “This feels good,” I admitted to him.

The Master glanced down at my bare feet and gave a reluctant, swift grin. “You’re such a hedonist at hearts. Better for you if you just admit it.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” I said childishly.

At the forest perimeter, the Master stopped us. He made a few clicking sounds with his tongue behind his teeth. “Announcement is better than bursting into their territory,” he said lowly. “Oh, here they come. Sometimes they make me go in after them. Cats are capricious animals.”

And so I watched as nine cats sauntered out of the woods, each one easily the size of an Earth wildcat. I estimated their weight at about sixty pounds, give or take. They were multicolored, and blended in with the forest play of light and shadow. Graceful, powerful, they surrounded the Master and took turns rubbing up against his legs for attention. He petted every one of them, going from head to tail in long, easy swoops that made them purr loudly enough to be heard from several feet back.

God, did this make a natural, familiar picture. The Master, in the middle of clawed, fanged cat beasts.

“Stay,” he told them, and untied himself from their knot. He backed out and came to me. “Put your arms around me. They need a demonstration that we’re a unit.”

I hesitated but a moment. This was my chance to hug him, something I’d always wanted to do, yet feared to initiate. The moment I got my arms around him I thought I’d burst. He felt everything and nothing like what I imagined. Strong, wiry, hard; I’d anticipated that. But, he also felt strangely vulnerable, like he needed protecting. That couldn’t be right. The Master was indomitable.

Yet… Yet, when Naismith’s men had grabbed him right in front of me, hit him in the neck with a needle, my stomach had dropped into my shoes. The way he’d collapsed, like a rag doll, his long and slender throat exposed in a way he’d never allow when conscious… It made me sick to even remember it.

Did my hope play a trick on me, or did he slightly relax in my arms?

“Okay,” he said softly. “Now, hold your hands out for them to sniff you,” he instructed. “Kneel down, or at least squat.”

The cats circled me. I admired their sinuous grace and power. They all examined me with their sense of smell. A few of them pawed at my clothing lightly. “Good,” the Master praised. “Your lack of fear makes them more open minded to you. These cats are more like wolves in their habits.”

“Then, which one is Alpha?” I asked, slowly standing back up.

“I am,” he answered. “But, in lieu of me, the one with the most black on her. She’s a brute.”

I spotted the one. She was indeed bigger, and longer. “You’re going to take up the most bed space,” I said.

The cat looked into my eyes, and I knew she understood me.

 

**

The Master and I were obligated to endure a formal meeting of his consultants so they could understand I was his advisor, or partner, or whatever. They were stodgy old things and reminded me of the Gallifreyan High Council. They spoke a dialect my TARDIS wasn’t entirely able to translate, which I found odd and disturbing, but in the end it didn’t matter. They accepted that I was there to help their emperor.

“My apologies for them,” the Master said as we walked away from the group, who were still discussing the agriculture issue. “Their arguing isn’t personal, it’s traditional. This is why no one ever gets anything done.” He shed his sandals and slung them into a random corner. “It’s been hours. I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, I could eat again.” I couldn’t quite grasp how easy of a companion he made when he wasn’t being a twat about universal domination. “So, you have to go through hours of discussion over the simplest of things? How does your temper take that?”

“Badly,” he admitted. “I sometimes have to spend equal time in the exercise rooms afterward. Physical activity dampens down the urge to just slit all their throats.” He took us outside into the dwindling sun and pointed toward some greenery close by. “The berry patch,” he informed. “You’ll like them. I don’t especially want to wait for a seven course meal when I can fill up on fruit sugar and be done with it.”

Well, I agreed with him there.

We picked up an entourage of cats as we walked, and soon they were all there with us in the berry patch. The Master tossed reddish berries at them as he ate, and they could all leap much higher than our height to catch them. He was playing with them, I realized, seeing how he smiled indulgently at them.

“Having been practically a cat at one time, does it make it easier to communicate with them?” I asked, thinking of the Cheetah Planet.

“Probably,” the Master told me after a second’s reflection. “I understand their urge to leap and run and bring down prey. Too, the taste of raw blood in the mouth.” He smiled and shrugged and continued eating, still flinging berries out, which the cats ate after wallowing.

“I see Earth berries here,” I said, recognizing raspberries.

“Transgalactic Trading Company,” the Master said for the second time today. “They never landed here before I invited them, because the people were suspicious of strangers and space travel. After getting an alien emperor, though, they’ve settled a bit.”

I ate for a few minutes before taking up the next topic. “Do these cats go most places with you?”

“Probably fifty percent of the time. I don’t allow them in the senate because it makes them docile. The high ion bombardment is bad for their appetite.” The Master took me by the sleeve and dragged me five steps toward a big bush of indigo berries. “Recognize these?” He asked.

“Flathberries!” I shouted in surprise. “They only grew on Gallifrey!”

“I had seeds in my TARDIS,” he said. “They like this climate.”

“Ohmygod,” I managed to get out before grabbing a handful of the rich, sweet things. I hadn’t had these in centuries, not since I was a child. Come to think of it, the last time I’d had them, I’d been with him.

The Master chuckled. “Always so eager for sweets,” he commented, and in his voice I heard the same indulgence as what he displayed in smiling at his cats.

I tried not to be covert about it, but I took to observing him. He plucked one berry at a time for his enjoyment, bypassing the ones with anything the slightest bit wrong with them. He hadn’t a leaf or a speck of dirt on him. By contrast I was covered in filth and ate huge handfuls of the berries at once. Suddenly, I felt very common. It was an unwelcome sensation, but I’d often felt it in his presence. He was usually quite careful in dress and manner. I wondered if he’d ever really relaxed a day in his life.

“Stop it,” he said quietly, but the command in his tone carried anyway. “I can see what you’re thinking, and it’s stupid. Your greedy, free approach has its own merit.”

“You’ve said that to me before.”

“Yes, when we were only boys, and you didn’t listen to me then, either.” The Master mixed some of the berries together in the slackened fabric pouch he’d made of his outer robe. It was black and wouldn’t show a stain. He’d never do that with the white part of his outfit. “I just remembered I promised Cook I’d bring her a spike-neck for her father.”

“What’s a spike-neck?” I asked as I followed him out of the berry patch and toward a jungle of trees and vines just meters away.

“A sort of pheasant, very nutritious,” he answered. “Cook’s reward for making me that dessert you ate earlier.” The Master, still holding his makeshift apron of berries, bent and took up a rock. “Be quiet now, Doctor.”

I held very still as his Alpha cat came alongside and sat at the Master’s feet. She looked toward the forest a moment, then they both moved together until just in front of a large bush. The Master threw the rock, and a bird with spiked plumage at the neck burst from the undergrowth. The cat leaped nearly straight up and caught the bird instantly. Instead of savaging it, she dropped it flapping at the Master’s feet. He took a moment to stroke her large head and praise her with soft words, then caught up the bird and snapped its neck.

“Yuck,” I said. “Impressive, but icky.”

“Death is rarely as clean as I’ve just made it for this bird,” the Master replied coolly. “Don’t be a hypocrite, meat-eater.”

“I’m not,” I protested.

“You are,” he insisted, brushing past me. “You’re like your precious earthlings, thinking your meat grows in cellophane at the grocer’s.”

Chastised and not liking the feeling, I again took to following him. He led me into a very large kitchen in the palace. All the women bowed to him, stopping what they were doing to pay him homage. He went straight to a pretty, black haired, middle aged woman and gave her his kill.

“My emperor,” she said, bowing very, very low, “you honor a bargain you created. I would do whatever you wished without the reward.”

“You said your father was sick and required a spike-neck,” the Master said, and the way he turned on his charisma and charm even made my face heat up. “Cherzo needed the kill, your father needs the soup you’ll make out of this bird, and I needed to show my friend what the cats can do. Everyone is satisfied.” As he spoke he dumped his berries into a bowl.

“As you say, Your Highness,” the cook replied. Her eyes slid to me, but she didn’t stare.

“Come on, Doctor,” the Master said, leading me out. “I have an hour before bedtime and more work to do.” He left his berries, and I wondered if they hadn’t been a little bonus for the cook.

Once we were back in his personal quarters, he left the door open and the cats started showing up. They sprawled all over the bed while the Master perused some scrolls. I gingerly arranged myself so that I wasn’t infringing upon any one cat’s bed territory and simply let my eyes drink their fill of him.

It was so good to know he was alive. I dearly hoped he meant what he said about his self improvement program. My fondest desire was that he wouldn’t bounce back into thrill killing and destruction. Well, I really wanted him to find himself, too. He seemed sincere.

“You don’t intend to sleep at all, do you?” He asked, not looking at me. “When was the last time you did?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

The Master made a tsk noise and exchanged one scroll for another. “You didn’t sleep well as a child. It never changed?”

“Not really.” He spoke truly. Life moved too fast for me to feel comfortable going unconscious on purpose. I couldn’t get enough of living, actually. I didn’t think I was alone in that. The Master, however, had obeyed the timetable of his wife’s needs on the Valiant. He went to bed when she did and got up when she did. I didn’t know if he’d slept, though. “Do you keep regular hours now?”

“I do,” he answered. “I feel better for it. Regular periods of rest seem to sort my head.” He tossed his work down and went to a closet to sift through clothing. “Let’s see,” he murmured. “Something decent enough to answer an emergency, but indecent enough to convince you I’m not going wandering…”

“Locking the door and giving me the key is a good start,” I said.

“Shall I chain myself to the bed?” He asked, and though he had absolutely no expression on his face, I heard the words in a suggestive way. “Maybe I’m not the only one with a restraint fetish?”

“Stop it,” I replied shortly.

“God, you’re such a little Pollyanna,” he complained. “I can’t even get adult conversation out of you. You simply don’t have it in you to play anymore. What happened?” He put on a pair of boxers and took off his svond and over-robe, proving to me he’d been naked underneath his glorified nightgown. “Seriously, I mean it,” he stressed, coming over in order to hang over me. “No one knew as many raunchy jokes as you did, and now I make you blush with a simple crack about chains?”

“It’s probably just that it’s you,” I said before I could censor myself.

The Master’s eyebrows went up. “Really?”

I decided not to make the effort of lying. “Like I said, you’re very… earthy this time round.”

The Master grinned a very full grin. “You aren’t even looking,” he protested, “not really. Oh, you complained a little to yourself that you never regenerate as handsome as I do, and you were glad I looked healthy, but other than that you’re not inspired.”

“Look, do we have to fight about absolutely everything?” I asked.

Again his eyebrows went up. “Don’t you like to?”

I squirmed a little. That hit too close to the mark. “Yes, well…”

“Oh, give over,” he said in a good natured tone. He blew out the candles, doused the lamps, and got in bed. “Cherzo, quit hogging the blankets,” he told his Alpha cat, who obliged him by moving over a bit. “And, Doctor, you’ve never been ugly,” he added.

Warmed, I stared up at the ceiling and thought about that. Every time I regenerated I got a shock at my appearance. Maybe I just wasn’t good with change.

“You’re thinking too loud again,” the Master said, sounding a bit sleepy now. “If you have to do that, pick something boring.”

“I don’t mean to do it in the first place,” I said, irritated with myself. “It’s your fault for having mental powers beyond the norm.”

“Keep up the silly whinging and I’ll show you my mental powers,” he warned. “It’s bed time. You insisted on being in here. So, be quiet and let me sleep. You won’t like it if you make me cranky.”

I forced myself into calmness inside and out, and the Master gave a long, satisfied sigh. In mere moments his breathing changed into a deep, regular rhythm. He slept. And, despite myself, after an hour of staring at nothing, I went to sleep, too.

 

**

 

“No, no, no,” the Master groaned, awakening me. I kept still, unsure of exactly what was going on. “No, Ailla, it can’t be true.”

A small shock settled into me, as he’d said the previous sentence in a voice he hadn’t used in centuries. An old voice. I didn’t know who Ailla was, either.

I got up and used my sonic screwdriver to light a candle. In the dim light, the Master gleamed with sweat. He wasn’t tossing and turning, just lying there as rigid as a statue.

“Ailla,” he groaned again.

I carefully touched his shoulder with just one finger, and he jerked awake.

“What is it?” He asked instantly. “Is there a problem?”

“You were having a nightmare,” I explained. “You okay now?”

He rolled over onto his side and stared at the far wall a moment. “Not really, no,” he answered. “But, I’ll make do. I always make do.” With that he closed his eyes again. I watched as he fell asleep almost in seconds.

Worried, I got back in bed and tried to relax enough to sleep.

 

*****************************

 

The Master’s humming awakened me. I sat straight up, frightened and amazed I’d actually fallen asleep while lying beside the most dangerous thing in the entire cosmos. The Master was sitting at a little desk with staff paper in front of him, adding notes as he hummed. Composing? I didn’t know he bothered with music. He hadn’t gotten dressed, and sat there in his boxers. The sun hadn’t come up yet, so he worked by candle light.

I got up and scooped his finished papers off the desk. Oh, this was pretty. I hummed it myself, gaining his instant attention.

“It came to me in a dream, so I thought I should put it down before it vanished,” he explained. “My dreams don’t linger long.”

I carefully restacked his work and took the only other chair. “Who is Ailla?” I asked.

The Master’s jaw clenched. “A traitor,” he said. “A filthy, treacherous, lying traitor. That’s all you need to know.”

“Didn’t sound like… she? Was a traitor,” I argued.

“She was. Is. It’s possible she’s still alive, but I’d think not.” The Master finished his notation and put down his quill. His entire body looked tense now, from shoulders to feet. He flexed his hands a few times before starting his one-two-three-four beat on the desk. “At least Lucy had the kindness to wait until my defeat to turn traitor.”

“Another wife?” I didn’t know the Master concerned himself with women so much. I’d been willing to accept this incarnation of him as lusty, but his past regenerations weren’t what I’d call open to relationships. He had a very independent nature, after all, and little patience with others.

“I didn’t marry her, no,” he said, his eyes flashing irritation. “Drop the topic.”

“You know that’s going to be hard, considering it’s insight as to your character,” I pointed out. “I’ve been trying to sort you for centuries.”

Very briefly, the Master smiled. “You still want to dance?” He asked, his tone mysterious.

“Not if it involves weapons, like gypsy knife ceremonies or Klingon war waltzes,” I replied.

“Klingon?” He shot me a confused, interested glance.

“Star Trek,’ I supplied. “I love that show.”

The Master rolled his eyes and gave a little chuckle. “Oh.” He got up and started sifting through his enormous closet.

“Really, tell me who she is,” I wheedled, unashamed of wheedling when it might pay off.

“No, Doctor,” he said firmly, putting clothing over his arm. “Find something to wear. No one here will take you seriously if you don’t dress the part. Scholars are identified by their clothing.”

“I thought you said everyone considers themselves scholars.” I loomed over him to look at the clothes, though. Everything looked a lot like the nightgown svond, but I did see white trousers.

“Exactly. Your outfit suggests you don’t care to learn anything.” The Master pointed to a door at our far left. “Bath,” he ordered more than offered.

“Not leaving your side,” I reminded.

The Master gave a sigh and walked past me with the very pair of trousers I’d looked at, plus his own choices in clothing. “Ogle my bits and I’ll strangle you,” he vowed.

“My respiratory bypass still works,” I informed, strolling along behind him. “Why would I be looking at your bits?”

“I don’t know, maybe because you like to judge yourself by my physical example?” He shot back. “Shut the door behind you quickly. I don’t want cold air when I bathe.”

I did as he said, turning to view a very sumptuous bathroom. The more utilitarian plumbing was separated from a large Jacuzzi type tub by dividing half walls, I supposed because it would add to the ambiance to not stare at a toilet when lounging in hot water. The entire room was white, polished stone. The light of a single candle reflected off a thousand surfaces, making a lot of illumination with little effort. “Nice,” I commented.

“A perk of being emperor. I like a good bathroom.” The Master took a cover off the tub to reveal it already had steaming hot water in it. “This is piped in from a hot spring.” He started stripping with his back to me. “Because I’m a good host, I’ll let you pick from the bottles on that shelf.”

Curious, I turned. There were a lot of bottles. I opened one and smelled something like lemon. “Is this moisturizing oil?”

“The yellow ones are. The blue ones are-.”

“Bubble bath!” I exclaimed, delighted. “Oh, I haven’t had a bubble bath in years!”

Again, the Master sighed. “I should have known better,” he muttered. I heard him getting in the water.

I found unscented bubble bath soap, because I really didn’t like the thought of not being able to find him by smell. Setting it down beside him on the tub rim, I started getting my clothes off. The Master looked into my eyes and didn’t stray from them once until I was in the water, which made me feel strange. But, it was better than being awkward from having my own bits stared at, I supposed. I dumped soap in, gratified that the powerful streams coming up from the bottom instantly churned up lots of bubbles.

We had nice ledges to sit on. I got comfy quick. As the Master stared at me like I might be a zoo exhibit, I sculpted a creamy foam mountain and added a little foam goat. The goat took effort, because bubbles want to stick to you. But, I made that work for me, and got some pretty realistic horns out of sheer determination and patience.

A bar of soap obliterated my masterpiece. “Actually bathing is the point,” my reluctant tub-mate said with deceptive mildness. He slid off his ledge and stood up, proving the bottom center of this tub was more than deep enough to drown in. “Hand me that green bottle behind you, and a scrubber.”

“I’m taking a bath with you,” I murmured absently as I obeyed. I went back to sculpting immediately. “That’s new.”

The Master poured something into the water and all my bubbles went away, dispersed instantly. I smelled high grade alcohol. “Before you start moaning on about my ruining your fun, Picasso, let me remind you that this is about cleanliness, and I can’t get clean while covered in soap scum.” He scrubbed at himself with vigor. “But yes, this is very assuredly a new experience.”

I noticed that he had scars, and he really shouldn’t. People of our race heal very fast. The Master had a white line on his left pectoral and a puckered scar above it where arm meets clavicle. When he turned to get a flannel from the stack on the tub’s edge, I saw a spider web pattern in pinkish white. He’d been shot. And, he hadn’t recovered from it quickly.

He saw me having a look at his old wounds. His dark eyes considered me a moment, and I saw him deliberating on what to say. Finally, he shrugged. “I have no idea,” he admitted. “They happened at a low point in my health, so I’m assuming they’re permanent.”

I did a bobbing sort of wading over to him and got a closer look while he faced away from me. “Big bullet, or big piece of something, Master,” I observed.

“Insurrection on Ghoen, and no, I didn’t cause it. Wrong place, wrong time.” He stood very still, so I saw him shiver when I traced the largest part of the raised, smooth scar. “I’d parked my TARDIS in the wilds, and a war zone grew up around it.” He turned and smacked my hand away. “Quit your morbid fascination.”

“It’s just that you shouldn’t have scars,” I defended weakly. On the Master, a scar was like Sharpie marker on a Michelangelo. Though usually smaller than me, he was always so well made. I realized we were standing much too close in a setting best described as intimate, and that he was staring up at me with intense focus. The effect should have caused me to back-peddle, but instead it froze me.

There wasn’t anyone in this entire cosmos with the Master’s level of concentration, I would swear to that. He could bore a hole through a person with his eyes even when he had no malice intended. Right now his attention was akin to scientific curiosity, like someone staring at the contents of a Petri dish under a microscope. Yet, there was an edge of something, something I wasn’t familiar with, and I felt he was looking at my soul.

A cloud of heavy steam rolled up between us, and I blinked with sudden freedom. Feeling stupid, I got back on my ledge and began cleaning up in earnest. The Master didn’t say a word, but I felt him thinking. I kept my eyes lowered even as he got out and dried himself. When I next took a chance on looking his way, he was standing before a mirror, fully dressed, shaving.

The awkwardness making me slow and clumsy, I got out and put on the trousers he’d brought in for me. “Do I get a shirt?” I asked. Amazingly, these weren’t too short for me.

“Of course you get a shirt,” he murmured, and there wasn’t a shred of displeasure, meanness, or impatience in his tone. “Going around bare-chested with me would imply something you really don’t want to deal with.”

“Oh, like being a concubine?” I asked, almost amused but not quite. “That might put off your harem hopefuls.”

The Master tilted his head as he considered that, eyes glazing over with thought and hand poised with the razor. After a moment he shook his head. “No, bad idea. I’d be expected to prove ownership. Don’t tempt me to backslide into negative behavior and thought.” He finished shaving and splashed his face. “Find a shirt you like.”

Hope for the Master was leaking into me steadily, and I dearly wanted it to not go up in flames. I found a loose fitting shirt made of the same material as my trousers, also in white, and threaded into it just as he entered his bedroom. The Master had arms nearly as long as mine, so the shirt wasn’t too badly off. I tucked the cuffs back to make it look deliberate.

“Take a sword,” my host instructed as he strapped one on with efficient expertise. “We’re going through the outskirts of the rural farmlands today, and the law doesn’t reach very far into that area yet.”

I looked at him in his nearly form-fitting, unrelieved black clothing, with that weapon, and concluded any normal person would think twice about attacking him. It wasn’t that he had a particularly intimidating appearance, either. No, he could look very approachable and friendly when he wanted. It was that his aura projected deadly earnest. His quiet menace was the sort that gave no quarter.

Without commenting I took a sword, too. I hated it. I hated that people everywhere felt the need to skewer, shoot, or strangle each other for respect.

“A sword is only an ornament until it’s used,” the Master said softly, jarring me out of my momentary funk. He came over to me, standing at my side and looking into the mirror at our reflections. After a second he gave a wry grin. “Well, thank God,” he announced. “Now our audience can tell the good guy from the bad guy.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

I’d talked to millions of different races in my day, convinced many recalcitrant personalities to listen to me, persuaded multitudes, but after seven hours of arguing with stubborn Seldatians over the merits of water flowing downhill to water plants, I threw in the towel. In a huff, I got the remote for my TARDIS, something I’d only recently invented, and called her to me. “Fine,” I shouted at the throng, grabbing the Master and dragging him inside my machine. I shut the doors and started riffling through my nearest closet for a dry erase board and the appropriate set of markers. “I’m not even violent, and _**I**_ want to kill them,” I seethed. “How can you stand it?"

“I’ll probably go straight to my private exercise rooms and wear myself out on equipment,” the Master admitted. “What are you looking for, and how did you get your TARDIS to come here?”

“Remote,” I answered, going out of order. “I’m looking for a board to draw on. I can’t make myself understood. Their language employs as much odd, stilted body language as it does ideograms and polyphonic holes!” I found the large board and dragged it out. “See if you can hunt up the growth accelerator in the botany lab, will you?"

“Wander this machine without you?” The Master crossed his arms and didn’t move. “She’ll electrocute me. I can feel her grudge.”

“Okay.” I led him down eight corridors to the botany lab and began sifting through the supplies cupboard with a vengeance while he hung back and watched. “If these Seldatians are this stubborn over everything,” I said, “how did you become their emperor? The old one stepping down probably helped, but really, they argue over every little thing!” I threw objects left and right. I had a mission. I was going to validate step farming to these people.

“I proved to them I was a superior scholar,” the Master informed matter-of-factly. “I let them quiz me. Not only did I pass all their little tests, I posed a few to them that they’re still puzzling out.”

I snorted. The humor of that presented clearly. “Oh, well done,” I praised.

“Thank you.” The Master came closer to me. “If you don’t hurry, we’ll lose our audience.”

“Found it!” I crowed, tugging out the accelerator gun. It only worked on vegetation, so I surrendered it to him easily. “We can go.”

We retraced our steps. At the main doors, the Master paused and took another look at the main control room. “You haven’t redecorated, but she feels different somehow,” he said.

“Yeah…” I slowly shut the doors and looked down at him. “To me, she’s felt different since you made her sick.” I couldn’t help the reproach in my voice.

The Master turned his head toward the ground a long moment before giving an infinitesimal shrug. “What can I say?” He asked.

“An apology would be nice,” I answered, “but, only if you meant it.”

The Master lifted his head and met my eyes. I felt pinned by twin orbs of luminously intelligent hazel. “It’s hard to apologize for something that you don’t feel responsible for,” he said. “Knowing oneself accountable is different from feeling it.”

Oddly moved by his words, I tore my gaze from his and stared at the blue wood of my beloved TARDIS. “How much do you feel you have to answer for?” I asked, barely hearing my own question.

“Too much to list and nothing at all,” he replied, and he preceded me back to the farmers.

I waited until I felt able to focus upon the issue of farming instead of upon the issue of him. It took quite awhile.

 

**

 

“Well, there’s one thing off my list,” the Master said. We’d returned to the palace for a formal meal at his insistence. Today was some sort of special holiday in Seldatian culture, or religion, I wasn’t certain which, and the entire palace gathered for the meal. I sat at the Master’s side at one table on a dais, and below us everyone else sat. “Step farming in this hilly countryside should make sense already. I don’t know why they didn’t think of it themselves a thousand years ago. Even your precious humans made that logical leap.”

I smiled at his careful dig at my favorite species. “You married one,” I reminded.

The Master shot me a sour look as our server poured wine for us. “If you’d ever slept beside one of your companions you’d know why. They’re nearly twenty degrees hotter than us.”

“So, sunning yourself on a human in the same way a lizard sprawls over a hot rock?” I grinned, thinking of that. I easily pictured him wallowing around on someone to get warm, because he was hedonistic.

He didn’t get a chance to answer, because the ritual dancers spilled into the great hall and began their routine, which drew his attention more than my teasing. I saw why quickly. They were all women, beautiful women with artful, black eye paint and wearing flowing, colorful scarves. Not a single one could be considered less than perfectly fit, and their dark, oiled skin caught the lamp light like burnished gold. I couldn’t see their musical accompaniment very well, but the drums and lutes were easily heard.

I picked at my meal, uninterested in eating until the first course of salad was whisked away to be replaced by a yellowish soup that smelled wonderful. The wine was sweet and fruity and without much leg, meant to be easily drinkable and not very intoxicating. I explored the flavor and texture of the thick, hot bread between us and decided I’d have to figure out how it was made.

The music got faster and faster, as did the dancers. They spun, leaped and swirled through the room with dizzying speed and perfect flow. Some sort of heavy, cloying incense hung in the room. I started feeling a bit woozy and quit eating.

The dance ended abruptly, with all the participants collapsing onto the floor, breathing hard. No one clapped, so I held back. The Master stood up, gesturing them to do the same. They obeyed and lined up before our dais. The Master took a bag from his belt and descended. He walked down the line of them, stopping at each dancer to place a coin in her left palm. When finished, they all filed out and he returned to his seat. The conversations in the room resumed at a polite level.

“The dancers survive on the emperor’s funding, mainly,” the Master informed, picking up his soup bowl and drinking from it directly. I belatedly noticed that everyone else was doing the same, and that I’d doubtless been rude to eat it with the odd, deeply-bowled spoon in my place setting. “They do make money on private celebrations with wealthy, upper class citizens.”

“Lot of cultures do the same,” I commented. I had a feeling he’d tipped the dancers pretty well.

“Yes, but this culture doesn’t allow for male dancers. I’m trying to change that. It isn’t against their religion, but it’s never been done.” The Master shrugged and cut into his medium rare meat. His small, strong, elegant hands worked with precision. “I don’t understand gender bias,” he confessed.

“That’s because we can regenerate into either sex,” I pointed out. “Most other races don’t come close to our biological structure. They’re stuck with what they get.”

“Which ought to make them more respectful, not less,” he argued. He chewed a bite of the unknown, barely cooked animal, eyes floating around the room. “I’ve never seen a culture so hung up on who-does-what. They don’t even allow the men to cook, or the women to hunt.”

“And you have to be careful what you change, or how much,” I added. “The Prime Directive wouldn’t allow you to do anything at all.”

“Star Trek again,” the Master said, chuckling. “Well, I’d ignore the Prime Directive in any case. Change isn’t always wrong.”

“And you’re arrogant enough to assume you know what’s best.” I tried my own pseudo-steak, finding it to be the same thing I’d eaten yesterday.

“I usually do know what’s best,” he argued. “Whether I heed that and do it is another thing.”

“You know, you’re really different,” I told him. “I’m hoping this isn’t an elaborate ploy to turn the screw on me.”

“Now who’s arrogant? It isn’t always about you.” The Master sampled his vegetables, his face relaxing as he found them good. “I’ve been here minding my business for quite awhile. I didn’t expect you to stumble upon me. A nice surprise, but not anticipated.” He paused to cock his head to one side and let a thought go through. “Well, not anymore expected than usual; our paths cross very often,” he amended. “Just as often without my influence as with it, actually.”

I heard the sounds of shouting and scuffling from outside the hall, even over the live music. The Master gave a short sigh. “Sit still,” he ordered me, and before I could even get indignant over his highhandedness, two men burst into the room.

I watched the tallest one, a grizzly looking man in dirty clothes, level a long, curiously made gun at the Master. “You don’t belong on the throne, you alien!” He shouted.

The Master picked up the heavily made serving tray and got it eye level just as the gun went off. The tray made the bullet ricochet toward the ceiling. Just as fast, he picked up his dinner knife and sent it into the throat of the gunner. Blood erupted like a geyser, and the assassin staggered back before falling on the floor, gurgling.

The second assassin stood frozen, as still and amazed as the rest of the people in the room. We all watched the Master stand and gracefully descend the dais, all flowing black confidence. “Didn’t know what you were up against?” He asked the second man in a kind tone. His guards started to surge forward, but he lifted a hand and they stopped. “Why would you try to kill me?” He asked, his voice still light and gentle. “I’ve brought prosperity and an end to famine.”

“You… you…” The man shook his head as if confused, and I knew right then that the Master had a hold on his mind. “You want our women to profane the learning houses,” he managed to answer. His face hardened as that assumed sin brought anger in through the Master’s imposed will. “You’ll take them away from their place.”

The Master, standing in a rapidly spreading pool of blood from the first assassin, nodded thoughtfully. “You think a cock entitles you to decide things,” he conjectured. “Well, it really doesn’t. I’m the one who decides things, and I assure you it isn’t on the merit of my sexual organs.”

The assassin began to choke. He clawed at his throat as if he couldn’t get any air, and the Master watched dispassionately as the man became desperate.

“Master.” I spoke in our shared language. “Please, don’t kill him.”

“Why?” He didn’t turn to look at me. “He’ll try to kill me again, first chance. His beliefs are ridiculous. No one with any sense believes restricting one half of the population is beneficial; it isn’t logical.”

“He was born and raised into that way of thinking,” I argued. “It isn’t his fault.”

“I don’t believe that and neither do you,” the Master replied. The man was at his feet now, making horrible noises and writhing in his friend’s blood, but the Master didn’t have a speck of emotion on his face. “Intelligent creatures question what they’re taught, Doctor.”

“You’re going to kill him for his lesser intelligence?” I felt sick at seeing him fall back onto his murderous ways. He’d been doing so well. “Throw him in prison, or try to reform him, but don’t kill him, please.”

The Master finally turned his head to look at me. The man collapsed and began taking great, greedy gasps of air, crying as he did so. With a gesture, the Master had his guards take the half-dead assassin, and they carried him away. He didn’t need to tell them what to do with the man.

Returning to his seat, the Master took a sip of wine. The band started back up, and conversation resumed, but many eyes were upon their emperor, a man who could choke someone to death without laying a finger upon them. “You’ve just become my justiciar, Doctor,” the Master said, his voice none too pleased. “I hope you’re up to the task, because you demonstrated to about three hundred people that I’ll listen to you. That means they’ll come to you in order to pitch their problems to me.” He turned his dark, bottled-sherry eyes upon me, and if I’d ever seen him serious, it wasn’t as serious as now. “If you swan off on me, and them, you’re a miserable coward.”

Oh, I’d stepped in something foul. I’d made myself his personal adjudicator, and now his subjects would hope to get what they wanted from their emperor through me. I couldn’t just dash back in my TARDIS if things got unpleasant.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, still speaking Gallifreyan, mainly because he hadn’t quit yet, either. “I didn’t mean to make things more difficult for you. But, you’d already made an example out of one man. You didn’t need to kill the other.”

“So says the man who killed billions of baby Racnoss,” the Master returned evenly, not batting an eyelash. “Dealing death one-on-one is distasteful to you, perhaps? If you don’t have to look your enemy in the eyes, is it easier to stomach?”

Mortified and sickened, I took my eyes away from him and stared down at my plate. I couldn’t think of a single thing to say in my defense. Because, he was mostly right.

 

**

 

“Quit your moping.” The Master looked up from his work to glare at me. “At least quit moping so loudly.” We’d gone to the senate house, and he was now drawing up the paperwork to register me officially as his justiciar. His chief advisor. As soon as I signed his pompous paperwork I’d be responsible for just about every rule these people had, and obligated to keep everyone, even him, straight on the law.

No pressure.

“I’m not thinking loudly,” I protested. “My mind is closed off to you and anyone else.”

“You’re twitching, fidgeting, tapping, sighing, and squirming,” the Master replied. “You are virtually unable to keep still or keep quiet. If you ask me, a sanctimonious little swot like yourself is a perfect High Advisor.” He dipped his quill and began writing again, his movements tight. “You’d better live up to my expectations.”

“What if I don’t?” I asked.

“Then, I’ll throw you in the harem and deal with you on a level you can’t possibly misunderstand,” the Master answered promptly, causing a shockwave to go through my chest. “If anyone needed restrained, whipped, and taught how to _properly_ beg, it’s you.”

Outrageous heat soared into my face. I quickly put my head down. That wasn’t enough, so I got up and went to his office window, opened it, and sat in the large frame facing out. I didn’t have a bit of trouble seeing him treating me to whips, choke-chains, and leather straps. He had a highly dominant personality, the worst I’d ever encountered, and he’d always loved capturing me. God, I’d do anything for a good breeze right about now. I’d started sweating. A lot. “You’ve never said ‘please’ and meant in your entire life,” I retaliated.

“I’ve said it twice and I’ll probably never say it again,” he replied swiftly.

“To Ailla?” I asked, knowing I courted disaster with him.

“Now is not the time to test me,” he warned.

I stayed quiet for a very long time, and I felt his tension slowly dissipating. I highly doubted he’d try to throw me in his harem, actually, but tying me down and thrashing the hell out of me…

That could happen…

I wondered what that would be like. Would I cry? I thought I might. I was moved to tears easily in this regeneration. Well, in comparison to others, that is; I tended to shed my tears while desperate or furious this time around. But, Rose had inspired the sort of tears that made me soul sick. Even now when I thought of her, living on a parallel Earth with my half-human duplicate, I got choked up. I hoped she was happy, because I’d have never been able to accomplish that for her.

“Come over here and sign,” the Master said in a tired voice.

I got up, grateful my face had calmed, and went over to him. The document seemed straightforward. If signed, I accepted the role of his advisor. I would have nearly the same standing as he did. I was expected to learn the laws and ensure they were kept. I also would have charge of his domestic situation, though. Like a Victorian butler, I’d be in charge of the servants and the finances, not only in the palace but in the senate.

“You know I’m not really one for giving orders,” I said.

“You’d better learn how to tell the truth soon, or I’ll be beating it out of you,” He said tonelessly.

“As if,” I challenged, daring him to look at me by force of will.

The Master stood up and presented me with the quill, his eyes deadly earnest. “You aren’t screwing up my work here,” he informed. “If you feel free to impose your moralistic crap on me, then you can do it to everyone else.”

“Being in a position of power is-.”

“Satisfying and useful,” the Master interrupted. “Sign, or you’re going straight to my harem.”

“You don’t have anyone in your harem,” I pointed out.

“Then you’ll be the lucky, full-time recipient of all my frustration.” The Master leaned over the desk and pushed the quill closer. “Sign the fucking paper, Doctor.”

I snatched it and signed, knowing I couldn’t get any farther with him if I continued indulging my childish streak. “You might beat me,” I said, “actually, I know you would, but you’d never-.” The look on his face made me cut off my words. I dropped the paper on his desk. “Fine,” I relented. “What now?”

“Now, you read the law books,” the Master replied. “Go to the library and get started. I’m going to bed.”

I let him go, thinking he probably would stay in his bedroom.

He looked very tired.

 

**

 

Even speed reading didn’t get me finished until the wee hours of the morning. I dragged back to the Master’s bedroom, honest fatigue making me move with clumsiness. As silently as possible I opened the door and slipped in. The moonlight showed me his form and the forms of all his cats. They littered the bed around him. One slept on him, actually. I identified her as the pack Alpha as I wormed my way into the bed and fought for some blankets.

Cherzo rolled off the Master and investigated me a few minutes, sniffing my hair and hands before asking to be petted with a head butt. I obliged her, feeling calm in my sleepiness. She was as soft as silk, and purred nicely. “You’re very agreeable,” I whispered. “Cuddly.”

The cat made a snorting sound and went to curl up at the foot of the enormous bed. I closed my eyes and drifted on waves of ever lessening consciousness. The room was perfectly dim, smelled like the Master’s natural copal scent, and was just cool enough to warrant the heavy, comfy blankets.

A slice of moonlight fell on the Master’s face. At rest he looked so approachable and innocent. I reached out and touched his shoulder. His eyes opened and he turned his head to look at me. “I finished,” I said. “May I apologize again?”

The Master gave me a long, slow, heavy blink. “I forgave you hours ago,” he informed, not a trace of dishonesty in his delivery. “I know who and what you are, Doctor; just go to sleep.”

His declaration made me feel better, but I wasn’t quite satisfied. I moved closer, getting a satisfying wave of his unusually good, heady scent in the process. I met his sleepy eyes and gave him a little smile. “I don’t want you to excuse my trespasses,” I explained. “I only want you to understand that I didn’t make things more difficult simply for the sake of making things difficult.”

The Master blinked exactly three times as he assimilated my words, but he didn’t appear to have gained much more awareness than what he started with. “It never occurred that you would,” he assured softly. “Really, Doctor, just go to sleep. Everything’s fine, I swear.”

I nodded and got comfortable again. The Master’s eyes shut once more, and he fell back asleep in seconds. Soon, I joined him in dreamland.

 

**

 

When I woke, the cats were gone and the Master was sitting up beside me in bed, a heavy silvery tray laden with food between us and a version of a newspaper spread out for reading. “Thanks to your determination to share my bed, my lesser advisors have quit pestering me about a harem,” he informed, not turning from his news. “So, I suppose I should be grateful to you,” he went on, bringing his arms in to turn a page. “You’re not what I’d normally use as arm candy, but I suppose if I teach you how to comb your ridiculous hair and dress you properly, you won’t be too much of an embarrassment.”

I levered upward and served myself tea. “Are you serious?” I said, using his same, level tone of voice, “I’m a great catch. People all over the cosmos are gagging in envy at your accomplishment.”

The Master closed his eyes and let his head drop back for a grin. He relaxed his arms and let the newspaper crumple up in his lap. “Oh, that’s _good_ ,” he praised. “Additionally, what you said was likely very true.” He threw the paper to the foot of the bed and got a cup of tea for himself, his hands expertly manipulating the sugar tongs to sweeten the brew. “You aren’t too eye-jarring to wake up to, either. A familiar presence, anyway, just not a presence I’m accustomed to seeing on a pillow beside of mine.” He stirred and added a thin line of rich cream to the black tea. “Then, there’s the fact I don’t have to dumb down my words.”

“Pillow talk isn’t normally very loquacious,” I argued. This was good, good tea, and perfectly brewed. “What sort of tea is this?”

“Another transplant from my TARDIS,” the Master answered without answering. “You like it?” He took the cover off a server to reveal a heap of flathberries and something that smelled like oatmeal. “These people took to tea immediately, which was a saving grace. I didn’t have the heart to murder them after seeing their enthusiasm.” He got himself a bowl of the hot cereal, strewed berries all over the top of it, and began eating in earnest.

Knowing he hadn’t intended to murder these people from the start made his declaration at least partially funny. I didn’t like joking about killing, but I, too, knew who and what he was.

I served myself some breakfast and we silently watched the sun creeping over the foggy, rolling hills of silvery grey. Birds swooped around the window, making a pretty show and even giving us music. The slight, cool breeze of morning smelled of something powerfully sweet, like honeysuckle. I heard women singing very far off, and occasional laughter. I realized I didn’t want to immediately get up and find something to do, and that gave me pause. Was it possible I found it peaceful enough here to calm down a bit? It seemed promising.

As I reached for the teapot I had a second realization. Long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away, the Master had asked me to rule the universe at his side. I’d refused. I didn’t need to rule anything or anyone. Yet, here I was, helping him rule a planet. I’d agreed because he’d shown some positive change, and seemed to be getting control of himself through smaller domination. Thinking he’d tricked me neatly, I stole a glance at him sideways.

The Master didn’t currently have The Smug. He appeared to be enjoying the morning the same as I. In this diffused light his skin glowed with health and vitality. His coffee-and-pine eyes serenely gazed over the vista, quietly alert. I hoped beyond hope that I hadn’t walked into a trap of his making, because right now he simply radiated with his own, peculiar brand of beauty, and I didn’t want it taken away from me. Charismatic, forceful, indomitable Master, sitting at ease in a bed and having his breakfast at leisure, with me; that hadn’t ever happened before.

“I want you to be all right,” I heard myself say.

The Master blinked and turned his head to refocus upon me. “Of course you do,” he told me softly. “You’re the Doctor.”

It was a poignant moment, though I couldn’t pin down exactly why. Suddenly, I felt absolutely shy, and that almost never happened.

The Master tilted his head, considering me with fresh focus. “The man who makes people better,” he mused as he looked into me. “And, you really live up to that as much as you can, don’t you?”

“I don’t see a need for suffering,” I admitted. I felt like I weighed thousands of pounds. I hoped he wasn’t mesmerizing me. As good as he was with that skill he might be able to do it without my even knowing he did.

“Suffering isn’t always negative. It sheds contrast. One needs contrast to appreciate the opposite of suffering, you know.” He looked out the window. “Take this view for instance. If I hadn’t spent centuries trapped in a black hole, this wouldn’t be as nice, would it?”

“How could you ever get out of a black hole?” I asked, sitting straight up in surprise.

The Master shrugged in a manner that suggested it wasn’t as casual as projected. I didn’t know how I knew that, either, but accepted my grasp of body language, and his body language in particular. “It’s not worth a retelling, Doctor; I tried everything. By the time something succeeded in granting my freedom, I was insane with desperation. I don’t even remember what I did, now.” He poured another cup of tea and sipped it, his movements economical, graceful. “I like to say I’m a genius, but that experience tested me a bit.”

“I’d imagine.” I got up and cleared the tray to make it easier for him to get out. If he didn’t want to talk about his experience, nothing would move him to change his mind. “What’s on our agenda today?”

“I need to tour the poorer provinces and discern what needs done,” he informed, getting up as well. “I have money in the coffers for renovation, and should decide if the aqueduct is more important than better housing. It’s possible that sanitation would prove a better first step than a housing overhaul.” He set his cup and saucer on his desk, right on the very edge, and went to his closet. “My own sanitation is paramount, though.”

“A bath?” I asked. I didn’t want to get in the tub with him again. The last time had ended up making me feel funny. “You’re on your own.”

“Oh, you trust me that far?” The Master smiled as he began choosing his clothing.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I want to.”

His hands stilled. Sighing, the Master grabbed a few articles of black and shut his closet. “I’d get peevish over it, but we both know I really can’t.”

“’Course you could. But, you aren’t.” I dragged a hand over my wrinkled clothes in an attempt to straighten out. “Do I really have to change clothes every day to be seen with you?”

“Yes, you do,” the Master told me firmly. “Tonight my tailor will pay us a visit, and I expect you to cooperate with her.” He went into his loo and shut the door.

Haphazardly, I sifted through his closet. There was a long, white svond trimmed in dark grey. “Do I have to wear a nightgown?” I asked the universe. Of course, I received no answer. So, I tried the thing on and looked at myself. It reminded me of scholar’s robes on Gallifrey, actually, without all the annoying, gaudy frills. I refused to wear sandals, however, and put my red Converse back on. I didn’t like having my bits hanging free, either.

“Not bad,” the Master said. I looked at him in the mirror, admitting only to myself that it did restore order to my universe to see him in solid black. He stood beside me and straightened my collar with absent precision. “I suppose I should put a ring or bracelet on you, though. Maybe an earring…”

“I don’t like jewelry,” I said firmly.

“All right, then.” He took up my discarded trousers and fished out my TARDIS key. I held my breath, waiting for him to seize it for himself, but he crossed to a small box and took out a silver chain, threading my key upon it. He came back and hung it around my neck. “No objections to wearing your key, I hope.” With that, he got his own TARDIS key from the same small box, put it on a chain and hung it around his own neck. They looked nearly identical even though he had a more advanced model machine.

“Hmm,” he mused. He reached out and took my key, then exchanged it for his. “These people have seen my key, so this should do,” he said.

“You’re going to have to show me your TARDIS in order to wear my key around,” I pointed out. “Also, is it really a requirement to stamp your ownership upon me?”

The Master smiled as he slid on a pair of low, black cloth shoes. “Absolutely to both; I’ll take you to my TARDIS right now if it chaffs you that much.”

“Oh, this’ll be new,” I said.

Again the Master smiled, this time with appreciation. “Indeed,” he replied. “Need to do anything before we go?”

“Brush my teeth,” I said.

“Go to it, then, Doctor.”

I found a new toothbrush made of stiff hair and wood, and grimaced. But, after using it a moment I concluded it did a better job than a synthetic one. I washed my face, made use of the facilities, washed my hands and finger-combed my hair. I looked presentable. Why couldn’t I be arm candy? He’d insulted me, there. This face and body were just fine. Skinny, but fine.

Once I exited we went down to the main rooms. The Master ordered a cart for us, which relieved me greatly. We met it in the courtyard and got in, and to my displeasure we picked up a large contingent of armed guards. I didn’t say anything, though. I knew they were necessary, and the emperor wasn’t allowed to travel long distances without people guarding him.

I noticed I was getting the same, careful attention the Master got, now, though I didn’t know if that was because I’d become his justiciar or because he’d deliberately set things up to make his subjects think I was his boy toy. It was just like him to make a subtle dig at me like that, too. He may, _may_ be attempting to reform, giving up his more violent and painful attitudes toward me, but he couldn’t stop altogether.

His TARDIS had taken the form of a very large stone. I felt relieved it even existed, and couldn’t even think about his working Chameleon Circuit. We got out, he ordered his men to stay, and he led me around the back of the machine. “Go on, open the door,” he prompted, flicking the key dangling around my neck. “I have a lot to do today and can’t get anything done if you think I’ve maneuvered things into getting the key to your time machine.”

Feeling embarrassed and defiant, I pushed the key into a likely slot and opened the door. His control room was decorated in muted grey and a sort of pinkish hue, like a Zero Room. I felt interested in his controls configurations, but thought better of it. To the Master’s men we’d disappeared behind a large rock together, and the more time we spent here the more suspicious it looked. “Okay,” I relented. “You have a TARDIS. I’m satisfied.”

“Wonderful.” The Master exited and I followed. He shut the door and gave me a hard look. “ _I’m_ not the liar, you know,” he said. “I misdirect, set traps, let you infer things, but I’ve rarely outright lied to you.”

“You’re splitting hairs,” I insisted, keeping my voice low as we returned to his men, and going a bit farther by using our shared tongue, too. “You’ve gone well out of your way to humiliate, trap, maim, or crush me outright, so you don’t get to be snooty over my suspension of belief.”

“Drive on,” he told our coach as he settled down into the compartment and shut the doors for our privacy. “That may be true, Doctor, but I feel the way I feel, and that’s that.”

“What, I’m supposed to be more dependable, more merciful?” I asked, really getting into readiness for a good blow.

“Yes,” the Master burst out, his face now drawn in irritation. “Yes to both, Doctor.”

“Well, if you really want to prove _they_ haven’t ruined you, you’re going to have to learn those qualities yourself,” I shot back, unimpressed with his truthfulness. “Really, I’d think you’d go out of your way to become everything _they_ professed to be and failed to achieve; all those morals and supposed charity weren’t all that tight, were they? So, to prove better, you’d have to become better.”

The Master turned in the bench to fix me with eyes positively snapping in anger. “What the hell do you think I’m doing here?” he asked. “Taking a holiday? Slumming? Getting a touch of sun and salt breeze?”

I drew back, more than a little stunned. In a split second I had to admit he’d gotten off to a good start with the very things I’d suggested. I’d been so worried he’d stop attempting positive change that I hadn’t fixated on his general direction with it.

“Your problem is you’re a hypocrite,” the Master continued, his voice now very low. “You want to talk about how the Time Lords held others up to standards they couldn’t achieve themselves?” He cut his words off and pressed his back firmly against the padded seat, not looking at me anymore, but he didn’t have to finish what he’d been about to say. He’d made his point very clear.

I perpetually felt like I wronged him, and I thought maybe now I knew why. Because, I’d hated that I had company in being a renegade while having none of the companionship. I imposed my morals upon him and resented his freedoms. But, his freedoms had been costly, as had mine. And, I really was a hypocrite.

Depressed, I slumped down in the seat and looked at our feet. He’d shed his shoes and I stared at his well formed arches and shapely toes. He was so elegant. Even as an unhinged maniac he remained elegant. It seemed to dwell in his very soul, and implied such artistic things. Artists are supposed to be mad, aren’t they? The good ones, anyway.  
  


**

 

The Master insisted upon getting out of his cart the moment we entered the middle of this slum. Nervously, his guards circled, their weapons facing out in case any of the rapidly approaching populace decided to become violent. I suspected they’d seen riots before, probably in the employ of the previous emperor. But, their new ruler wasn’t a bit perturbed by the muttering, curious mob. He slouched against his cart and waited, and I realized he was stalling for the maximum amount of people to attend whatever little speech he’d planned. I waited with him, hoping this didn’t blow up in our faces. I’d had plenty of experience with this sort of thing, and it never turned out exactly the way one thought it should.

The moment we had a real crowd, the Master climbed onto the cart and pulled himself up to the top of it, motioning me to follow. He wasn’t excluding me out of ill humor. I obliged and got up there to stand beside him.

“I am your new emperor,” the Master said with no preamble. “You probably recognize me, and you’ve probably heard a rumor that I’m an alien.”

The people began murmuring louder between themselves, but no one spoke up.

The Master smiled and looked around a moment, giving them time.

“We’ve heard,” a man said, coming forth. He was dressed in a long, tattered red svond that nevertheless looked clean. He had a lot of whitened facial hair, and aged skin, but his eyes were as blue as Earth’s sky. “We’ve also heard you took the throne without any violence, and that you intend to educate our women.”

“Is there a problem with that?” The Master asked seriously, not a touch of sarcasm in his tone though I knew he held a lot of contempt for the uselessness of base sexism. “I mean, what does it benefit everyone for the females to stay at home and raise children when they might be better suited to paying work?” He gazed out over the crowd a moment, letting them think. “Paying work that will lift you all from poverty,” he added.

The man who’d stepped forward nodded slowly. “It is an interesting line of thought,” he conceded. “However, jobs are scarce now. What will happen if women begin seeking the work, too?”

“You have an issue with a woman supporting you?” The Master parried. “Some of you men wouldn’t enjoy staying at home to raise your children, to guide their growth to adulthood, to be able to give them a _**man’s**_ counsel whereas before they only had their mother’s opinions?”

Oh, the diabolical nature of the fiend. I grinned inwardly, having to work hard at keeping my face neutral. The Master was arguing with them on their level. He wasn’t throwing orders, but persuading, and I didn’t know of a more persuasive creature than him.

“It _is_ a point,” the man said. “How do you propose that we fund the schooling for all our children, my emperor, when some of us are not even able to educate our sons?”

The Master put his hands behind his back and took his stare over everyone in range again before settling back on the unofficial spokesperson. “I believe education should be funded by The State, and not private citizens,” he said. “Therefore, I am taking the money exchange away from learning. Don’t you agree learning should be free?”

“Yes, but _how_ will The State accomplish funding the education of so many children?” The man asked. “There are few learning houses in our sector, and our children cannot walk furlongs in order to attend the ones outside it.”

“Ah, I’m glad you asked…?”

“Zaeus,” the man supplied helpfully.

“Planet of the Apes!” I burst out before I could stop myself, and the Master shot me a threatening look. “Sorry,” I said quickly. But really, how could I have helped that one?

“Zaeus,” the Master repeated. “Well, Zaeus, I thought perhaps the state coffers, which are filled with tax money collected by the old emperor, could be used to build more schools. And, that the work of building them would boost our economy.”

“And afterward?” Zaeus asked.

“There would be a lag in between the certification of more teachers and the schools being completed, of course,” the Master said. “But, I believe it will be worth it.”

The crowd began talking at a higher volume, with excitement. Zaeus crouched to speak to a little girl, a relative if I was any judge of genetics. The Master leaned closer to me and spoke without looking away from everyone. “They love to learn, so I thought this might cement things,” he whispered.

“Our females and males would attend together?” Zaeus asked upon straightening. “It seems an idea that would eventually cause a loosening of restraint. Also, some grown men cannot be trusted with young girls. It is a sad but true fact.”

“Some grown men cannot be trusted with young boys,” the Master pointed out. “Do we stop education because of risk? Is ignorance a better pastime?”

Again came the heated murmuring. The Master let it continue on for quite awhile before interrupting. “All living things must change and adapt in order to survive,” he lectured, and my eyes were drawn to his open but firm body language. He kept his arms away from his body, his chest out, and his shoulders back. “You cannot deny that things are miserable here the way they currently stand. Are your traditions more important than education and opportunity?” He pinned Zaeus with his eyes, then. “What are you trained for, Zaeus?” He asked. “You’re obviously accustomed to some degree of leadership.”

“I was the last emperor’s event planner and secondary advisor,” Zaeus admitted, “before he threw me out for an unavoidable offense during the Harvest Festival.”

“Unavoidable offense?” The Master asked leadingly.

“I… my men allowed a Suri dissident to slip past security, and an attempt was made on the emperor’s life.” Zaeus bowed his head, and I knew he felt shame over the perceived disgrace.

“I see.” The Master looked down and noticed the child standing beside of Zaeus. “Is that your granddaughter, Zaeus?”

“She is,” Zaeus said quickly, putting his wrinkled hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Her name is Alair.”

The Master nodded. “Why don’t you and Alair come to the palace with me?” He asked. “I will provide you with shelter and food, even work.”

“You would hire a disgraced old man and allow his small charge a place in your home?” Zaeus’ eyebrows soared upward. “Such is not helpful to the status of a new emperor, my lord.”

“Who am I trying to impress?” The Master asked. “I want results, not gossip, useless sexism, poverty and disease among the people.” He jumped down, making me scramble to follow suit. “I’m putting these issues to the vote,” he said loudly to the populace. “Spread the word. I’ll return in two days to set up determination tables, and every man and woman will cast their ballot.”

“Women too?” A teenaged girl close by gasped.

“Women, too,” the Master said. “If I return and I don’t see women among the voters, there will be hell to pay. That is a promise.”

 

**

 

Zaeus and Alair stared at us on the opposite seat within the cart, quiet. The Master stared back until both of them began to smile a little. The old man gave a small chuckle and leaned back. “You _must_ be an alien,” he announced.

“I am,” the Master confirmed. “So is my lead advisor. Meet the Doctor.”

“Pleased,” I said, reaching out to shake the man’s hand. Thankfully, hand shaking seemed done here. I’d committed a few offences among people with touching taboos.

“He’s not normally so quiet,” the Master went on. “Once he warms up to the fact I’m not out to commit genocide, he’ll talk your ear off,” he promised.

“Look, I don’t think you mean to arbitrarily kill anyone,” I argued. “It’s evident you’ve made a commitment here with the Seldatians.”

“But, you still think I might be using this new occupation as a means to trap you somehow,” he argued right back.

“It would be your way,” I pointed out.

“It would, but it isn’t,” the Master said. “We won’t get a thing done if you keep hanging onto these ideas, Doctor.” He brushed some non-existent lint from his shoulder with a casual but contemptuous sweep of his hand. “I don’t know what else I could do but walk around in leg irons.”

“Grand,” the little girl said to her grandfather in a stage whisper, “are they married?”

Zaeus clapped his hand over the girl’s mouth quickly. “Hush,” he commanded.

“We’re not married,” I protested. “What makes it seem like we are?”

Zaeus took his hand away once he saw I addressed his little girl. She straightened and flipped her hair off her shoulders. “Married people talk to each other like that,” she said. “Mom and Dad did, but I think they only fought so they could make up later,” she added in a confidential tone. “Sometimes they’d spend hours in the bedroom, apologizing.”

The Master burst out laughing, and clutched his stomach. “I’d have to be certifiable to marry this critical do-gooder,” he said between trying to get his breath and a fresh wave of humor.

I scowled and stared out the window. As if _he_ was a catch! And, he _was_ certifiable.

“Aw, don’t hurt his feelings,” Alair pleaded with the Master. “Don’t you think he’s pretty enough? I do.” She smiled at me, and despite the conversation, I smiled back. She was a precocious thing. “He’s even got pretty shoes,” she went on, and Zaeus gave a little groan.

“Forgive her, my lord and lord adjudicator,” Zaeus asked. “She is but seven turns and her mouth moves as it will.”

“But, he _is_ pretty,” Alair stressed again. “I like his big, dark eyes.”

“That’s enough,” Zaeus said firmly. “Sit and recite your prayers until your mind is louder than your lips.”

The Master turned toward me and smiled a big, evil smile. “I like his big, dark eyes, too, Alair,” he said. In my mind, I heard the rest of his thought. _Maybe I should cut them out and keep them_.

 _You stay out of my head_ , I warned. _And, you shouldn’t be able to get in my head in the first place, not without physical contact_.

He didn’t reply at all, just leaned back and got comfortable. We were nearly to his palace now.

In the main hall, the Master called a servant forward and ordered two adjoining rooms prepared for Zaeus and Alair. He requested a large lunch sent to them, then his tailor. At every command the old man trembled and shook a little more. The Master was giving him back his status, and as such, his pride.

“Zaeus, I want you to return to your original duties,” the Master said. “Your granddaughter may occupy herself with you when she isn’t receiving an education.” He paused and looked at the old man afresh. “What happened to her parents?” He asked.

“Drowned last year in a fishing accident,” Zaeus answered, his face dark with the memory. “Nine people died that day. Storms can be sudden and violent here, sire.”

“And unexpected,” the Master added. “I’ve yet to see anything but gentle rain.”

“There are ways to chart the weather,” Zaeus said. “But, all of the city’s special equipment for such was destroyed in an uprising five years ago. The old emperor thought they were a waste of time.”

The Master gave his new employee a cagy look. “You have the pieces, don’t you?”

“I do,” the man admitted.

“Send for them,” the Master ordered. “I’ll repair them.”

“My lord, I fear they may not be fixable.”

“Then, the Doctor can fix them,” the Master said. “I’ve never known anyone more capable of saving a planet with a shoestring and a paper clip.”

I smirked at him. “I didn’t build an entire rocket with food scraps,” I reminded.

To my surprise, the Master ducked his head a little, as if a bit embarrassed by my recognition. He clapped Zaeus on the shoulder lightly. “If I’m not mistaken, Cook has a small child the same general age as your granddaughter,” he informed. “Perhaps Alair could use a friend in her new home.”

“Yes, my lord,” Zaeus said, bowing.

“Come on, Doctor,” the Master said, walking for the rear of the palace. “We have planning to do for an aqueduct.”

I skipped up alongside him, trying to look at his face. If he really was embarrassed because I’d said something nice about him, I wouldn’t know what to think. “Are you upset I mentioned the rocket?” I asked. “Because it’s nothing to be shy about; you did brilliant work with it.”

“You said so at the time,” he replied, still keeping his head slightly down.

“And, with a human mind,” I added, “it made your efforts all the more incredible. I didn’t even understand the technology.”

“You would if given the opportunity,” he deflected. “I had an entire lifespan as a human, so understanding what you grow up with isn’t special.” He led me into a room full of paper and drafting equipment and shut the door behind us.

I faced off against him, blocking his movement toward the drafting tables with my body. “Why won’t you ever accept praise for what you can do?” I asked. “You can shout it yourself until time stops, but the moment someone else takes notice of your brilliance, you run from it.”

The Master eyed me with startling focus. “It might just be that no one else has ever been smart enough to understand how smart _I am_ , except for you,” he answered. “And, I’m much more accustomed to hearing condemnation from your lips than praise.”

“But you’re a _genius_ ,” I argued, and again I saw him turn his head. “If I talk about your intelligence it should only sound like commenting on the weather!”

“But, it doesn’t,” the Master replied, his voice suddenly quite aggressive. He rounded on me, and I took a step back automatically. “You’ve had your head up your arse for centuries, Doctor. It’s only recently that you took a moment to think about me in any capacity other than as a simple villain. It never occurred to you that I had more dimensions!”

I started to get angry myself, because it was just like him to assume he knew all about me, about what occupied my mind and what I thought of him. “Well, maybe you should have done more than wreck havoc,” I pointed out. “Constantly pitting yourself against me with worlds at stake isn’t the way to show me your other facets!”

“Oh, so I could have gained your notice with an invitation?” He asked, still advancing on me, backing me up toward a wall. “You’d have stopped your pell-mell tear through time and space to have a chat?” He poked me in the chest with a finger, and it hurt. “You were too busy showing off to your little human companions to think about me, Doctor. And, stupid as they were, you only had one that ever questioned you about us.”

My back hit the wall then, as I massaged the poking spot between my pectorals. “I tried to reason with you over and over,” I protested. “I would have been willing to listen to you!”

“Oh, indeed?” The Master looked at me with such disdain that I questioned my own words, which rarely happened. “I got such a good reception from you when trying to help you get out of Borusa’s clutches on Gallifrey. You stole the seal of the High Council and left me to fend off the lightning bolts that threatened to fry me. Then, you left me for Cybermen!”

“You try to kill me all the time!” I shot back, now seething. “You don’t kick a dog repeatedly and expect it to welcome you home with a wagging tail!”

The Master drew back and stared at me so hard I thought I might burst into flames. “You know what? Start the plans for the aqueduct yourself. If I’m around you right now I might do something you’ll regret!” He stomped out, narrowly missing an eavesdropper, little Miss Alair. She dodged him and took her thumb out of her mouth, looking at me with wide eyes.

“Don’t worry,” I told her, though I didn’t feel all that confident the Master would cool down anytime soon. I didn’t feel as if _I_ would, actually.

Miss Alair gave me a look that made me feel even more stupid than I already did. “Why didn’t you just let him kiss you?” She asked, all innocence. “That’s what Mommy did.”

“He doesn’t want to kiss me,’ I replied, my hearts doing a terrified shudder at the very notion. “He wants to strangle me.”

Alair shook her head, making her curly black hair swing. “No, he doesn’t want to hurt you,” she insisted. “He’s just sad you don’t appre… appre…”

“Appreciate?” I asked with a feeling like falling.

“That’s it, appreciate,” she said quickly. “He’s just sad you don’t appreciate him.” She tilted her head to one side as she looked at me. “Why don’t you?”

“It’s hard to appreciate a case of the flu,” I answered darkly.

 

**

 


	3. Chapter 3

Miss Alair’s words followed me around all afternoon. I drew up the aqueduct plans regardless, using maps of the city for reference. It was a mess, frankly, and I didn’t want to build a perfect system for buildings that might be torn down anyway. Deciding I’d get nowhere without consulting the Master’s appointed renovation people, I took a stroll down the hall in search of them. Eventually I came up a room full of tables, books and people.

When I entered, a lot of bowing happened, which I hated. “Hello,” I said. “No, quit bowing. You can bow for the emperor, but not me. I’m here to discuss the city renovation.”

“Excellent,” a wizened old man said. He gestured me to the largest table, which was covered in well drawn maps. “We’ve decided gravity feeding is the best way to get water to the lower city, and which buildings to demolish, but we’re having trouble with this.” He pointed with a gnarled finger to a very large, outlined structure. “It’s the Temple of Holy Elements.”

“Which cannot be moved by law,” I finished for him. This was their religious center, and if anyone tampered with its arrangement, a riot would doubtless follow. Maybe even a revolt of the whole populace, rich or poor. “Then, why not divert the pipes around it?” I asked.

“The temple is built upon solid rock, as deemed by our faith,” the man informed. “It will be frowned upon to take the construction even close to the grounds.”

“How close is close?” I asked.

“Three furlongs in every direction,” he answered. “And, many of our people built at the base of the temple grounds to be closer to the faith. There isn’t any good way to get a water supply to them.”

I nodded. “I assume they use wells.”

“They do, and that would be fine if the water wasn’t full of what our new emperor calls ‘bacteria’.”

I sighed. “Ultraviolet light will kill bacteria, but you have no electrical power sources for that.” I’d have to rig up long-standing batteries for individual homes, then, or use solar power. That wouldn’t be too bad, actually. Solar energy should be fine to power ultraviolet lights. “Give me a few days to arrange something,” I said. “Meantime, plan to take the pipeline well away from the temple and the people below it.” This was work, trying to get something accomplished in an agrarian, non-technologically advanced society.

“My Lord Adjudicator?” The man said as I prepared to leave. “May I speak with you a moment in private?”

“Certainly. What’s your name?” I let him draw me aside as I asked.

“Sigglis, my lord,” he said. He looked around to see that no one was close enough to listen, then leaned in. “My lord, it’s obvious you and our emperor share a covenant,” he began, eyeing the Master’s TARDIS key around my neck. “But, you should wear the earring and eye paint of an accepted emperor-in-standing.”

I blinked at him. “Earring and eye paint?”

Sigglis bit his lip and nodded swiftly. “It lowers his standing if you don’t advertize your kept status. Anyone may approach you for favors, which is an insult to him.”

I began to see a glimmer of his meaning. “I have to show I belong to him in order to keep other people from approaching me,” I said.

“Yes, my lord.” Sigglis exhaled, obviously relieved he didn’t have to go into more detail. “You can get nearly any woman in the palace to show you what to do. I beg you to consider compliance; a new emperor is constantly tested, as the interruption in the festival dance yesterday should have made plain.”

“I suppose it doesn’t help that I’m not interested in satisfying the sexual needs of usurpers,” I replied. “I have to put myself on display even though I’m not particularly tempting.”

Sigglis drew back a little, his face showing surprise. “My lord, you are everything that the populace wants. I understand that you and my emperor are not of this world, so perhaps you didn’t know that. My apologies for allowing you to walk about in ignorance.”

I had a long look around the room, trying to see any obvious differences between myself and these people. They all stood shorter than I, firstly. They all had coal black hair. They were thickly made, though not overweight. Their eyes were green or blue or grey. In short, I was their complete opposite, and I hadn’t even noticed. Even the Master stood taller than these people. Miss Alair’s attention to my big, dark eyes seemed very plain, now.

“Thank you, Sigglis,” I said. “I’ll make sure to not disgrace the emperor any longer.”

With that I left the planning room for the kitchen, intending to speak to the only woman I knew so far, the cook. It chaffed me to have to be seen as belonging to the Master, but I’d promised I wouldn’t deliberately screw up his work here. So, this was me seeking someone to put some paint on my face and shove an earring through my ear. I’d be exactly what the Master teasingly referred to as ‘arm candy’ if it would help matters along. The prospect of getting something done at this point appeared bleak.

 

**

 

“Hold still, my lord,” Hann said as she applied a thick layer of eyeliner to me. “Look up and you won’t mind seeing the brush coming at your face.”

I did as she said and touched my silver hoop earring. It still stung a little, but then she’d rammed an ice pick through my lobe, so what could I expect? “This could get infected,” I complained.

“No, it won’t,” she said. “I’ll give you ointment to put on the hole. Don’t take out the earring for several months and you should be fine.” She finished stroking the black liquid under one eye and moved to the next.

I felt the weight of the paint and gave an inward sigh. “Is all this so necessary?”

“If you want to not bring shame as a royal consort, yes,” she answered, smiling a little. “And, what’s wrong with looking good for him? He’s beautiful; surely you want to do him justice.”

I thought about that. On the unbiased perspective, the Master’s current body wasn’t any lovelier than the others he’d had. He always looked handsome. Still, this last incarnation captured a lot of his frenetic power and passion. He bristled with vitality and energy. He had nice eyes. He had a splendid, long neck, too. On our world his neck would draw attention the same way as Double-D breasts on Earth. “He’s good,” I admitted.

Hann laughed a little as she blackened in the rest of my lower eye. “I like his voice,” she confessed quietly. “Don’t tell me that hearing it in a bed isn’t splendid.” She stepped back for a look at me and shook her head. “My lord, your eyes just pop with power like this. The emperor is sure to take notice.” She pulled a small mirror from her pocket and gave it over. “Just look at yourself.”

I obliged her and had a look even though I hardly ever thought to examine myself in a glass. Oh. Well. My eyes _were_ kind of incredible when outlined in black. It didn’t even look girly. In fact, I looked sort of dangerous. I didn’t know how to feel about that, because I _knew_ I was dangerous when properly pushed to it. The earring wasn’t very obtrusive, either. It glinted in the lamplight, but wasn’t large enough to look stupid. I handed back the mirror. “Thanks,” I said. “I think I can put the paint on, now.”

“Here.” Hann gave me two small jars. “One is ointment for your ear and the other is the traditional kohl. If you need more of that, come back to me.”

“Okay.” I got up and left, not really knowing where my head was and greatly desiring to have it back.

Once out in the main hall, I checked the time even though I always knew the time everywhere. Almost time for the evening meal… I wondered where the Master might have gone, and if he’d even allow me to eat with him now that we’d had a row.

“My Lord Adjudicator, please wait!” A feminine voice beseeched me from far back. I turned and waited for the person to catch up.

She was pretty. She had very, very long black hair and a closely fitting dress in the same color. Panting, she stopped beside me and bent over to catch her breath. “You are so hard to pin down, my lord,” she wheezed, trying to straighten. “I need to get your measurements.”

I stood and waited, obliging her. “Okay,” I said.

The Master’s tailor swiftly measured me nearly in every way that I could think of, calling out the numbers as if to cement them in her mind, for she didn’t write anything down. When finished, she beamed up at me and winked. “My lord is of enviable dimensions,” she said. “It’s little wonder my emperor chose as he did.”

“I’m skinny,” I protested.

“You’re ideal,” she countered. Her slate eyes moved up and down my body with frank assessment. “Muscled, lean, tall and strong with a lovely face and beautiful eyes.”

“Okay,” I said, having nothing else to really add. “Are you finished?”

“Done,” she announced, giving me an odd little salute. “When you wake up there will be clothes waiting for you in your emperor’s closet.” She did an about-turn and marched off, and the set of her shoulders suggested self satisfaction.

I didn’t catch sight of the Master anywhere, so after a long search I went back to his bedroom. A group of women cleaned it, changing the sheets and doing a general tidying. One of them looked up at me and gasped, prompting her sisters to do the same, and in seconds I had the entire crew gathered around me and chattering.

“My Lord Adjudicator, you look wonderful!”

“Oh, your dark eyes!”

“The emperor will be so pleased!”

“Will he really?” I asked one. “I take it there’s nothing else I should do?”

“Well…” The one I’d addressed glanced at her companions before leaning in to speak at a whisper they could all easily hear. “Have you done the mud bath and hair removal?” She asked.

“Mud bath and hair removal,” I sighed. “No, I haven’t.”

“We could help you,” she offered, and I heard such hope in her voice that I almost wanted to do the silly things just to please her. But, I also really didn’t want shaved and bathed in mud.

She must have seen my reluctance, for a smile moved her lips, as well as the lips of all the women assembled. “It’s traditional,” she encouraged. “We could help you, sire.”

“All right,” I relented. The Master would pay for putting me in this position. “What should I do?”

“Come with us!” All but one woman took hold of me, and they shuttled me out and down the hall toward a large door.

And so, I came to understand that I wouldn’t be shaved. In moments I stood starkers in the middle of a brightly lit room while women applied wax and cloth to me, ripping my nice body hair out in patches at a time. It hurt. It hurt like the devil. I stood perfectly still anyway, on the promise that if I did, they wouldn’t go anywhere near my pubic hair. To my embarrassment and discomfort, they were very thorough. When they finished and I was stinging all over, they dumped me into a bath of what seemed to be bentonite clay, and left me.

“I’m hairless and cooking in hot mud,” I complained to the universe, but the universe didn’t listen.

One standard hour later, the women came back and hosed me off with water just a bit too warm. I supposed my lack of protesting was what encouraged them to slather my body in slick oil. I only felt glad I had hair left on my head and privates, and didn’t complain. One of them gave me a pedicure and another gave me a manicure while yet another woman wrapped me in a strangely configured white toga-thing. I’d never felt so stripped of skin in my life, and was grateful to be covered. Someone retouched my eyeliner, and I supposed the temperature of the mud bath had made it run. God, all I needed was weepy mascara lines on my face and I’d really feel like a girl.

Eventually, the scrub squad left me to my own devices. My stomach rumbling, I trudged down the hall back to the Master’s room. He was in there already, and didn’t look up as I came inside. Feeling rather depressed and not knowing why, I stretched out on his bed and turned my face to the evening sun. That, at least, felt good.

“Holy arse-fucking Rassilon,” I heard the Master exclaim. “What the hell happened to you?”

I turned my head, and he gave a little jolt at seeing the eyeliner. “You’d better like it,” I said. “It was all done to me in the thought that you would. Maybe I’m arm candy now?”

The Master walked over to me, his eyes wide in taking in my ruin. He squinted in the light and did another little startle. “You haven’t got any hair left on your chest,” he exclaimed.

“Or my arms, legs, back, stomach, buttocks and neck,” I listed. “I’m stinging all over. They bathed me in clay. I haven’t got a speck of dirt anywhere, not under my toenails, fingernails or navel.” I pointed to my ears and frowned. “Someone stuck a scoop in my ear canals and got rid of all the wax.” I paused. “They scraped my scalp, too. I wouldn’t show up as a living organism under a scope.”

The Master clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. I’d seen his smile.

“It isn’t funny,” I said sourly. “I did this for you, you know. It’s traditional for your consort to be exactly as you see me.”

The Master took his hand away from his mouth. “Seriously?” He reached out and touched my shoulder with a single finger, running it down my bicep. “You’re as smooth as glass.”

“I ought to be. They practically sanded me down.” I sat up. “Have you ordered dinner yet? I’m hungry.”

“On its way,” he confirmed. “Since when are you my consort?”

“That’s apparently what everyone thinks,” I answered. “I might be your justiciar, but it’s been taken a step further.”

“I told you not to sleep in my bed,” he reminded. “What else would people think, Doctor?”

“Your bed is the size of a small continent. We don’t even get close,” I griped. “Go all over the universe and you encounter that gutter mentality.”

“It’s not gutter mentality, it’s logical,” the Master argued. “People of wealth share a bed for only a few reasons. No one we encounter is going to assume you sleep with me because you don’t trust me, that you’re lying in here on the chance at catching me doing something nefarious.” He paused to look at my eyeliner again, as if he couldn’t help doing so. “Just because _you’ve_ vowed eternal chastity doesn’t mean everyone else does, or that they should,” he added. “God, you look strange sitting there with all your skin shining and not a single hair anywhere but your head.” He seemed to bite off a smile, then. “Did they remove the hair at your neth-.”

“No, I wouldn’t let them,” I said, feeling extra cranky at this point. “It feels as strange as it looks,” I promised. “I had more hair than this as a blond with a receding hairline.”

Chuckling, the Master sat, and by the look of it, just to stare at me. “Don’t pout with those lips,” he warned, smiling. “After all that’s been done to make me like you more, I’d think it would put you off.”

I quickly straightened my face. “Oh, don’t kid about that,” I protested.

“Who’s kidding?” He asked, not a muscle moving on his face and his eyes as serious as I’d ever seen them.

My hearts beat out of rhythm for three whole seconds. I couldn’t move or speak. Frozen, I sat there looking at him in wild-eyed fear.

The Master burst into laughter, and I broke out of my trance to throw a pillow at him. He dodged it, still laughing. “The look on your face,” he wheezed. “I couldn’t have inspired more terror with a nuclear device aimed at Earth.”

 

**

 

Dinner was a quiet, practically peaceful affair, tucked away in the Master’s serene quarters. We took tea on his fifth storey veranda, in comfortable, padded chairs, and watched the sun slowly sink behind the heather grey hills. I had very little experience with the ‘slow path’, with linear life, but the Master apparently had significantly more. His ease affected me, and I found I was looking forward to sleep, to awakening to tackle another problem in this interesting little backwater of a planet.

“How often are you going to have to be plucked?” The Master asked as he lit a fragrant cigar.

“Once a month, they said,” I answered, selecting an unknown fruit from the bowl between us.

“You’re actually going to submit yourself to it more than once?” He pressed, his voice soft and disbelieving. “I can explain away your quirks. You don’t have to endure having all your hair ripped out over and over.”

“Nah, I’ll get used to it,” I said. “I don’t want to sabotage your efforts as emperor.” I paused as a thought came to me. “Why this planet, though? Why not one bristling with armaments and advances?”

He cocked an eyebrow and looked at me. “You just answered your own question, Doctor.”

“Right.” He’d picked this planet _because_ it wasn’t a weapon waiting to be pointed at the universe. “What’s the next festival, then?”

“Festival of Fertility,” he answered, consulting a little book he kept with him. “It’s held in the temple we’re having so much trouble diverting water around. My attendance is mandatory. Apparently I’ll be giving the Sun Blessing.”

“When is it?”

“Day after tomorrow,” he said. “I’ve already memorized the blessing.” He put his book away and blew a plume of blue smoke into the evening air. “Coming with?”

“Of course.” I bit into an elongated, star shaped fruit and nearly had a food orgasm. “Oh my God, what is this?” I groaned.

“Vanya,” he said. “Isn’t it good?”

Good didn’t cover it. The fruit was outrageously sweet, tasted of pineapple and vanilla, yet had a faint odor of chocolate. “I’d love to eat vanya jelly on toast,” I said.

“That is easily arranged.” The Master eyed me askance. “You’re dripping it all over your perfectly oiled self.”

I stuck my finger in the juice trail running down my belly and licked it off my finger. The Master laughed a little. “You never change,” he said, and I heard that he felt pleased. “I’m so careful with my comportment, if possible, but you’re very unaffected and natural.”

“I’m not ruler of anything, and I never wished to be, so I’m not out to impress with manners and clothes,” I said after a second of reflection. “However, since it’s just the two of us and nothing’s about to blow up, I’ll just say you _are_ impressive. I’ve always thought so, but I knew you’d just accept the kudos as due your magnificence and go ahead to press a big red button.”

Laughing freely, the Master poured more tea for himself. “Yes, I would have,” he admitted. “But, I have to confess I’m glad there is no big red button, currently, and that the lack of bombs isn’t something I’m necessarily lamenting.”

“Yeah.” It was nice to talk to him when he wasn’t being a dominating twat. “You’re turning out to be very good company, you know.”

“Do tell, my dear?” He asked, giving me a little jolt. He noticed my slight jerk and threw me a grin. “Well, what should I call my consort?” He asked.

“There you go, teasing the man so out of depth with being a consort that there ought to be a category for the complete opposite just for him,” I said. I threw the vanya pit over the side of the railing and dug for another fruit. “I could live in the Non-Consortium. Give advice on how to be the worst husband, ever.”

“Husband, yes, but you make a decent wife,” the Master mused, his tone pitched for more teasing. “Currently you are exceptionally clean, except for that juice trail, and not bad looking. You’ll be running my house, too. All that’s left is to rear my many children.”

I thought of Jenny and winced. So much I could have lived for, and she’d died for me instead.

“What’s wrong?” The Master asked. “Your face crumpled.”

“I got my hand pushed into an MTTE, and out came a daughter,” I told him. “She was brilliant. And, she died saving my life.”

“Ouch,” the Master said quietly, not underplaying it at all. “And, you got your hand stuck in a military tactical tissue extrapolator how?”

“It was an ugly little war that I stepped right into, like I tend to do,” I answered.

The Master fell into silence, and I ruminated over my lost chance with Jenny. I’d had children before, all of them wonderful, but I hadn’t been ready for fatherhood any more than I’d been ready for marriage. In retrospect I felt certain my wife despaired of me long before I proved incompetence to myself.

“At least you meant well,” the Master said. And then, “Don’t look at me like that. You were projecting.”

“I suppose I was.” I met his eyes. “Did you ever intend to have children?”

“Oh, I intended to have at least six at one point in my life. My own little army, you know.” He gave me a smile that more than bordered on bitter. “And, poor Lucy wanted a rugby team of children, but I screwed that up, didn’t I?” His face changed, becoming beseeching in such a realistic way I was startled. “Harry, you knew when we met I wanted kids.” His face changed again, becoming stony and awful. “Let me see your birth control pills or I’m putting on a condom,” he said, obviously mocking himself. “I don’t have time for children right now, Lucy. Wait until after the election, when we’re settled.”

“Oh my,” I whispered.

“Yeah, not my best negotiations, but I was on a time schedule. You were due to catch up with me. Not much chance of universal domination with Junior in tow.” He threw his head back for a long, rich chuckle that would have set my neck hairs straight up if I’d had any left. I felt the pores where they used to be, though. “I can see it now!” He stood up suddenly and put his arm out like he had his lazer, but the other hand he held downward, his arm crooked as if he had a baby resting there. “Now, Doctor, you will fall for my evil scheme, and all your chances at winning against me are-.” He stopped and jerked his head down at his empty arm. He glanced back at me, his face realistically irritated and embarrassed. “Hold on a moment, Doctor. Harold Saxon the Second needs his nappy changed.”

I thought _I_ might need a nappy change, I was laughing so hard.

“Wait a mo, you’re dry,” he said to his invisible offspring. “You had a bottle three minutes ago.” He shifted his ‘lazer’ to his mouth and brought “Junior” up to be burped. “Hold on, Doctor,” he said to me crossly. “Harold can’t burp himself.” He spoke as if really trying to talk around his weapon, which made me laugh even harder. By the time he sat down again, my stomach hurt from laughing.

But, I still got up for my turn.

I held my arms up and clenched my fists with my face between them, then did my impression of rattling prison bars. “Hurry, Junior,” I said, looking downward. “The Master has me trapped. You have to get the keys!” I scowled and rattled the bars. “What are you doing? Don’t you crawl away from me, young man!”

The Master sagged backward in his chair with laughter.

“Junior, no!” I shouted. “You don’t have enough materials for a sonic disrupter! That’s a particle accelerator! Put that down.” I pointed with one, trembled finger, doing what I thought was a fine imitation of fury. “No, you quit pointing it at me! What have we talked about? No pointing guns at people!”

I bowed to my thrilled audience and got back in my chair, grinning. My tea had gone quite cold, but I didn’t care.

The Master took both our stale teas and threw them out to re-pour. “Kind of tempting to try,” he joked. “Well, not really, but it’s amusing in a way it probably shouldn’t be.” He drained his second cup of tea. “Look out there,” he said, pointing to the reddish sky. “See that very bright yellow star?”

“Almedionsis Five,” I said.

“You’re a disgusting showoff,” he said.

“I can’t help it. I’ve been nearly everywhere, or will be,” I told him.

“Never mind.” The Master pointed again and dragged his finger to the left. “See the pattern? Sort of vaguely people-shaped but joined at the pelvic area?”

“Yeah,” I drawled. “Is this constellation what shows up before their fertility festival?”

“Correct. It’ll be what they consider a perfect distance from the temple.”

I got a pang as I remember the Master doing this with me when we were children. He’d slipped into that role again, educating me on lore, not scientific data. He told me so many legends. My sense of pain grew to nearly an unbearable level as I realized he was the only person left with all that mythos. Without him, so many legends of Gallifrey would vanish. I’d never paid enough attention to be well rounded, and I’d ignored the star legends completely unless he was the one telling them.

“That one over there, just at the rising moon, is their equivalent of the Great Dragon,” the Master continued. “He’s called the Sky Serpent, and chases the Mated Pair because he desires the woman for himself.”

“Allegorical and Freudian at the same time, well done,” I murmured, trying to continue on with casualness when I really couldn’t. My throat was closing off and I felt so sad, but at the same time it felt good to listen to him talk about stars again. To remember when stars could be pretty lights instead of burning balls of gas, destiny instead of something to chart.

“Yes, I know,” he chuckled. “But there, just at that far ridge, do you see a constellation that looks like a man with a sword? That’s Caelbas, the Dragon Slayer. He chases after the Sky Serpent, to prevent him from killing the Mated Pair. But, like the dragon to the couple, he never gets close enough.” The Master eased back and re-lit his cigar; it had expired during our game of self mockery. “That sums the philosophy of this society, Doctor. They think it’s enough to get close and to not win. That’s why a solution will never be as interesting as the problem itself. And, that’s why I chose this planet. It wasn’t just because of their lack of tempting armament.”

I gave up on fighting hope for his sake. His sincerity couldn’t be faked, not in a million years even with all his talent at trickery and disguise. He’d weakened me with a return to childhood, warm simplicity, and followed through with exposing something to me he didn’t have to share. I leaned up and braced my forehead in my hand, closing my eyes against a gigantic wave of nostalgia, fondness, and that forbidden goodness the Master could inspire, that quality he had that made him charismatic and something to please instead of a source for terror.

He could be so beautiful.

And, he seemed to be trying.

“All right there, Doctor?’ He asked innocently.

I got up and took the two steps to his chair, looking down upon his mild, curious concern and the way the last bit of red in the sky made his hair burn with lighter highlights. He didn’t exactly shrink away as I leaned down toward him, but he grew very still, barely seeming to even breathe.

He accepted my arms going around him, and let me grip, let me give the hug from start to finish, then sat there looking up at me as I retreated. Surprised. Cautious, but not rejecting.

“Good night,” I said, and I left him sitting there in the falling light. Tonight I’d be going to bed with him because it made me feel good to know he was close, not because I thought he was up to something.

 

**

 

The entirety of the next day I spent at the ground breaking site for the aqueduct, going over the details of the main structure, then reviewing the men who would build it. The Master, caught up in reviewing step farming, was also quite busy. We went to bed so tired and frustrated that we barely grunted three words at each other.

The next morning we parted ways again, for the same reasons, meeting back up in the afternoon to eat something and get ready for the Fertility Festival. I took a short shower while the Master made use of his tub, and we met again in his bedroom wearing towels. “I assume there’s a special nightgown we both need to wear this evening?” I asked.

“Sigglis commissioned the proper svonds, and Maya made them this morning,” the Master said, handing me a long, very gauzy white svond. It had three layers of equal thickness and length, but I knew that standing in front of a light source might prove an embarrassment.

“I know,” the Master said, catching my stare. He held his up, which was identical except for a thin red stripe going down one side. “The whole thing is about fertility. They used to make their emperor and his wife or husband or what-have-you, go naked. Apparently the previous emperor’s physique wrecked ‘the mood’, or something.” He cast an eye over me. “If I were you, I’d skip the body oil tonight. You don’t want this thing sticking to you.”

“Excellent point,” I praised, then slipped the thing over my head and dropped the towel. “Well, I will say this; it’s air conditioned. Might want to keep away from open flames while you’re up there giving your little speech. One little thread on a candle flame and you could be naked in three seconds.”

The Master grinned and winked at me. “And the tradition would be reinstated.”

I smiled as I put on my shoes. The women that had given me the clay bath and ripped every last precious hair from my body, had stolen my shoes. I’d just gotten them back this morning. “My red shoes will match your red stripe,” I pointed out as he slithered into his svond.

“You are the very height of fashion,” he assured me, totally not meaning it. He leaned over and flicked my earring, which despite the precious ointment, was now slightly infected. I’d snuck over to the Master’s TARDIS and gone through his medical supplies to remedy that, and the medicine hadn’t really kicked in yet.

“Ow!” I complained. For revenge I reached out and pinched, getting his left nipple perfectly.

He left it at that, so I did, too. I wandered back to the bathroom to brush my teeth for the fifth time. I didn’t know why I felt nervous. I’d just stand beside him as he gave his religious pep talk. I didn’t have to do anything but look pretty. I went at my teeth lightly, thinking bleeding gums wouldn’t allow me to look at all pretty. I ran a hand through my hair, reapplied the eyeliner, and made certain the medicine had stuck to my lobe through the Master’s petty little flick.

I had to move over at the mirror when the Master came in to shave his face a second time. He felt nervous, too. “You’ll do fine,” I assured. “If you start to lose the crowd, hypnotize them.” It was a horrible little dig and I felt sorry for saying it the moment it left me.

The Master rolled his eyes. “Maybe I’ll just let you talk,” he replied. “You could keep an audience captive by merit of preposterous manner.”

Oh, right back at me.

Order restored to my universe, I took up a cuticle stick and got the lines around my eyes perfectly delineated. “I wish you’d been my roommate in school,” I told him.

“You had a real prize,” the Master muttered. “What was that guy’s name?”

“Chlorrisulfandrinel,” I reminded.

“That’s right. I called him Chloral-Sulfate,” the Master blurted. “But what makes you think I’d have made a better roommate? You saw what I did to mine. He was a nervous wreck.”

“You pioneered gaslighting on Gallifrey,” I mused. “Never thought of it like that.”

“Always moving his stylus three centimeters left or right, untying his shoes, setting up randomized, hidden devices in the room that periodically beeped just long enough to notice but not long enough or frequently enough to pinpoint their location…” The Master leaned his head over to grin at me in the mirror, white shaving foam stuck to him and all. “I aced my psychology course.”

“Using your own roommate for an experiment,” I chastised, but I couldn’t help remembering the incident as more than mildly amusing. “You drove him mad.”

“The school paid for his reintroduction into productive education; no harm done.” The Master finished, wiped his face, and stepped back. “No more delaying. We have to leave now.”

We left the palace for our conveyance, which I was so thankful to get. I hated riding those lizard-horse things. I’d been using them a lot lately to get back and forth to the aqueduct site. As usual, we had a hundred guards surrounding us. “How’d the voting for education go this morning, since we’re on the topic,” I asked.

“Good. Enough women turned up to swing the vote to their favor. I expect there to be some sulky male retributions, though. For that purpose I ordered a better occupation of the law.”

“You posted more coppers,” I said. “You could just say it like that, you know.”

The Master sniffed disdainfully. “You should be thankful that a return to sanity helped my vocabulary.”

“I’m just thankful of the return to sanity,” I confessed.

“I’d imagine,” he murmured. “Let’s hope my tenuous hold continues to hold.”

We were silent the rest of the way. I followed him inside the enormous temple, which was stone and held representations of the elements. They included Wood and Spirit in with Earth, Wind, Water and Fire, which I found interesting, as it paralleled an Earth society. The Master and I went to the High Dais and waited for the room to fill.

“There’s a door behind us,” I muttered.

“Yes, I know, it has something to do with the ceremony, but no one could give me a clear answer as to its meaning.” The Master glanced at it before looking at me. “Maybe we leave by it.”

He might have said more, but a gong sounded and a group of men wearing identical svonds came into the center of the room. Their arrival keyed the dancers, and once again I found myself slightly woozy from watching their spin and whirl routine. But, they eventually stopped. This time, the Master didn’t pay them. I suspected they weren’t supposed to take money for a religious rite.

“Our emperor will now give the Sun Blessing,” an officiator intoned with a bit of pomposity. On cue, the Master stepped forward and began to recite.

“Sun chases Moon across the sky, but Sun never tires.” His voice commanded attention, and I felt myself sliding into enjoyment at his power with speech. “Moon chases Sun through the heavens, never with his own glow.” The Master paused, his eyes impossibly seeming to see everyone in the room. It was a subtle manipulation, non-harmful, but of infinite usefulness. Everyone would feel as though he spoke to only them. I understood in a second he could have done this as Harold Saxon, but had chosen to be flashy with technology instead. “Yet,” he continued, “underneath them life continues. We toil under each, sowing our seeds. Sun and Moon are beauty and they enable life, but they never look down. Only we look up.”

It had been a short little blessing, but I didn’t underestimate its simple power. Religion that overwhelmed and made grand, sweeping generalities or enforced a lot of rules, eventually failed. This was a philosophical observance made into a homily.

The officiator came forth and bowed to the Master. “My Emperor, you may now take your consort,” he said, pointing to the door behind us. “We await the culmination so that we may also begin.”

The Master and I threw each other a look of dawning suspicion, and I followed him inside. We were met with an immaculate white bed strewn with flower petals. The door shut behind us. I noticed a phosphorescent moss on the walls, and the only light came from a very far away window in the ceiling. There was a small shelf full of oils just beside the bed.

I tried to put my hands in my pockets and discovered gauzy nightgowns had no pockets. “Sooo…” I spoke in our shared language, not entirely trusting we couldn’t be heard.

“They’ll take our word for it,” the Master decreed, responding in kind in Gallifreyan. He got on the bed and relaxed.

I got beside him, staring at the moss. “I don’t believe so,” I said. “I’ve seen this moss before. It reacts to high amounts of oxygen-to-carbon-dioxide exchange, and also to elevated temperatures, turning orange when it’s saturated.”

“You mean, it knows if we’re getting it on,” he said. “And, the ceremony can’t continue until we do the walk of shame.”

“More like the strut of slut,’ I corrected, making him chuckle.

“Come on, how hard will it be to fool moss?” The Master got up and went to a patch of it. He breathed on it, then held his hand close to it. “Hm. It seems it isn’t fooled by simple heat or carbon dioxide. Are you sure it’s the moss you’re thinking of?”

“Positive. It grows all over the universe.”

We looked at each other for what seemed a very long time.

“He specified you were the pilot,” I pointed out.

The Master put his hands behind his back. “Religious ceremony or not, the idea of having sex with you simply to please other people, isn’t acceptable,” he informed. “In fact, it’s rape.” He gave me a little, self-mocking grimace. “I have never been and will never be a rapist. It’s gauche, unimaginative, and common.”

He wouldn’t consider sex between us as casual, apparently, and I couldn’t help but feel a little flattered. But, this was the Master; he didn’t do anything casually. Usually, even the murders he committed were parts of a plan, or a plot, and not thrill-killing, at least until this regeneration.

I sat on the bed again. “Maybe we could convince the moss with kissing?”

The Master grinned and walked over to me. “Are you so good of a kisser that a lip-lock with you would equate as sex?”

“I doubt anyone is,” I defended. “We have to start with something, though. The emperor can’t leave a fertility rite without looking as if he’s done his part.”

The Master’s gaze dropped to my mouth. “Forgive my hesitance, but even kissing you isn’t a light suggestion, Doctor. Correct me if I’m wrong, but we’re in the very beginning stages of remembering what we were like as friends. And, I was enjoying that.”

My throat started feeling tight and sore again. “Yeah, me too,” I admitted. “But, if we don’t comply with this festival, your standing will probably plummet.”

“Even with the work I’ve done here, Doctor,” the Master replied quietly, “I have more history with you than with the Seldatians.”

We stared at each other, stalemated.

“Pretend I’m someone else,” I suggested. “I won’t let this change our dynamic.”

Smiling, the Master shook his head. “I have a lot of imagination, but nothing so vivid as to turn you into someone else. And, if you think for a second that even a small intimacy wouldn’t alter our dynamic, you’re kidding yourself.”

Frustrated, I sighed and dropped my gaze. “I don’t want all your efforts on this planet to fall into ruin because of me,” I told him. “If I hadn’t come here you’d have been paired with someone you could just…”

“Nail?” He finished for me. “You’re wrong, there. I have a fair amount of sexual reserve. Perhaps not as much as you, but enough to make the prospect of casual sex highly distasteful. Sex is never anything but intimate, at least for me.”

“What do we do, then?” I asked,

“I don’t know.” The Master sat beside me and we both stared at the floor, horribly aware of the waiting crowd outside. I played with my sore ear, my nervousness at a very high level.

“Oh, just kiss me,” I exclaimed after a long moment. “Make it hot enough and the moss will at least turn color. We can self-examine to death afterward.”

The Master gave a low, amused chuckle. “You think a lot of my expertise. Maybe I’m not very good?”

I thought of the many times I’d seen him practically devouring his wife’s mouth, how she’d instantly capitulated to what he wanted. Once he was in a position of power, he felt freer, obviously. I just needed to ‘put him on top’, so to speak. Thinking thusly, I threw myself sideways in front of him, getting my back in his startled arms. It was a precarious position, so I got my lower half firmly on the bed and braced with a hand around the back of his splendid neck. “You’re good at taking command,” I reminded, looking up into his surprised face. “So, take command of me and this situation.”

Slowly, the Master’s eyes changed from shock to a measuring sort of consideration. And, when his focus narrowed upon my face, my lips, my eyes, I got a taste of the most deliciously dangerous awareness. This was like lying in the center of a jaw trap. One little twitch and the steel teeth would snap around me. The air got heavy with anticipation, with the waiting of would-he or wouldn’t-he? My muscles locked into uselessness, and my breathing turned shallow, labored. His body was as hard as rock, and I felt like taffy melting across him.

A small chime sounded, breaking our intense, mutual consideration. As one we looked around and saw the moss all around us was a flaming orange.

The Master grinned helplessly, and lowered his forehead to mine. “Nothing casual about us, Doctor,” he said, chuckling. “Should we be gratified or worried that the smallest gesture toward sex between us is as powerful as Seldatian mating?”

“I don’t know, but at least we’re off the hook,” I told him. Lying in his arms, enclosed, with his forehead against mine was more than intimate. “Well, with this, anyway. I don’t know that we aren’t going to be a bit awkward now.”

We untangled and took a moment to right our clothing, not looking at each other. “I wonder if they expect anything else?” I asked.

“Too bad if they do,” the Master muttered. “My sex life is nothing to parade around.”

 

**

 

The festival was a complete success, on the point of view of all the participants. After hours of watching a few hundred people have sex, we left. Once in the covered cart, the Master turned to look at me. “I don’t know about you, but if I so much as see a bee lighting on a flower at this point, I’ll pop off.”

I snickered just once and nodded. “Is this a once a year celebration, or do we have to do this again anytime soon?”

“Once a year,” he confirmed. “Let’s eat, bathe, and go to bed. I’m sick of looking at other people’s moving parts.”

“You didn’t even thank me for getting things going,” I said airily. “I knew if you’d just assume control, things would work out.”

The Master shot me a sly but irritated look. “Appealing to my lesser nature is very dangerous.”

“Oh, I know, believe me, I know,” I told him. “But if I hadn’t pushed, we’d still be in that room, staring at moss and trying not to look at each other.”

“Perhaps,” he relented.

 

**

 

All that night, the Master’s dreams were violent. He thrashed so much the cats left the bed. I heard him speak Ailla’s name more than a dozen times. He hit his hands on the bedposts over and over, bursting his knuckles, bruising himself, bleeding on the pristine sheets.

I could do nothing but watch. The one time I attempted to help, to touch him, he struck out and hit me in the eye. I knew it would be a shiner come morning.

Finally, with less than an hour to the sunrise, the Master quieted. I slid from bed and washed up in his opulent bathroom, then searched until finding something that would disguise my bruise. After, I put on the liner, and I didn’t think anyone would be able to tell what I covered. By nightfall it would be gone anyway.

As I got dressed I heard the Master give a groan. He sat up on the edge of the bed and looked at the floor with groggy incomprehension. “What time…?”

“Dawn,” I answered even though he’d know what time it was if only he focused. “The loo is free. I’m finished.”

He dragged himself into the bath and was in there long enough to cause me mild concern. I ordered a fruit and bread sort of breakfast and took it out onto the veranda just as he emerged. His hands were bandaged, and he didn’t so much as glance my way once he joined me outside. But, those white-swathed fingers shook with the sugar tongs and rattled the tea cup in the saucer. He gave snarl of impatience as he slopped tea, and flung the crockery over the balustrade in a fit.

I waited for him to sit down, then made his tea exactly how he took it. Silently, I served him a plate of sliced vanya, blueberries and puffed pastry with real whipped cream. He stared at me as I layered the stuff inside the light, sweet shells of delicate bread, but I didn’t let on I saw.

A sliver of the sun broke free of the mountains, illuminating the Master’s drawn, pale face, his bruised arms. He closed his eyes and leaned back with the tea cup cradled to his chest. “No work today,” he said, his voice barely audible.

I sat and made my own breakfast happen, going slowly in both preparation and in eating so he could easily catch up. We had to share a cup now, of course, and I marveled to myself that he used so little sugar. But, it did contrast with the overly sweet fruit and cream, so I made myself adjust easily. I let him remain silent with his own thoughts.

After, I cleaned up the breakfast mess, leaving only the tea service, and went down to the kitchens. Hann greeted me with warm respect, and I felt glad she hadn’t noticed my eye. I’d done well, then.

“The festival was a great success,” she said as I snitched a taste of fresh bread. “No emperor has ever made the moss turn color that fast, either.”

“Your new emperor is a passionate thing,” I replied, trying to keep neutral but failing. “He ever and always inspires high emotion in me.”

“I easily see why,” she murmured, blushing a little. “But why have you come to see me, my Lord Adjudicator?”

“I actually came to see what you have in your spice cabinets,” I told her. “I suffer from terrible nightmares (no lie, there), and am looking for specific herbs. I don’t want to rob the emperor of his sleep, keeping him awake with my night terrors.”

“I understand.” Hann stepped back and showed me where I might start my search with a broad sweep of her arm. “My kitchen is at your disposal,” she added.

I commenced. In less than thirty minutes I’d identified a few herbs that would help the Master, but I really wanted to give him something a bit more powerful. Chamomile, or the close equivalent, was good for an overall remedy, but wouldn’t keep him from thrashing like a fiend at night.

“My lord?” Hann appeared beside me, smiling a cautious smile. “Perhaps you should speak to the palace physician? He has many herbs and even more knowledge.”

“Good idea. Where could I find him?”

“Oh, he has the lower levels,” Hann answered. “Just go to the main entrance hall and take the left door to the staircase and follow it to the bottom.” She turned, swept up a loaf of hot bread wrapped in a towel and pressed it into my hands. “Give him this,” she said, winking. “He’s ever so much more biddable if you give him a bribe.”

I followed her directions and made my way down a dark, cobweb-ridden set of stairs. Down, down, down… I started feeling as if I might be in a bad horror movie. But, I hit the bottom at last and stood confronted by a large door made of thick slabs of wood. I knocked politely and waited. A panel slid open, and I looked into a pair of gunmetal grey eyes framed by thick white lashes and eyebrows. “What?” The owner of those eyes asked.

I held up the loaf of bread. “Hann sends this,” I said.

“Hann is feeding me?” The panel slid shut and the door creaked open to reveal a very, very old man in a black svond. “What does she want, then?” He asked.

“She only asked I bring the bread to you when I mentioned I wanted to consult you on nightmare remedies,” I said, fudging it a little.

“Nightmares?” The man bade me enter with an impatient gesture. “Come in, come in, young man.” He snatched the bread and carried it over to a nearby table laden with wine bottles and waxed wedges of cheese. “Nightmares are mind phantoms, and there’s not much one can do about them except resolve the issues that cause them,” he said sensibly.

I looked around this vast, dimly illuminated room, seeing bottle after dusty bottle, sacks hanging from the ceiling, bunches of drying plants, and at least half a dozen fires with cauldrons hanging over them. This was a busy man in front of me.

“I can’t resolve the issues, because the person that caused them is dead,” I said, making an educated guess. My God, he had intricate and specialized equipment in here, and even with my experience I couldn’t identify anything. “The nightmares don’t bother all the time, just enough to make sleep a fearful thing.”

“Ah,” the old man said, cutting a slice of bread and wrapping it around a thick hunk of dark cheese. “Then, you need a sleep aid as well as some good, honest meditation.” He stuffed the food in his mouth to get his hands free, then started walking at a very good pace around a single table. He had at least thirty workspaces here, and all of them apparently in use. “You’re the new emperor’s justiciar,” he added. “Pretty, though, aren’t you? Would have fancied you myself when my cock was young enough to comply with my varied lusts.”

“Um, thanks,” I replied.

The old man chuckled and began taking things from various bottles and measuring into a very large mortar. “You can’t be modest, not with the new emperor,” he chided. “I’d have a go at him myself. What a voice.” He took up a pestle and began grinding with enthusiasm. “Nice to have a pretty slice on the throne for a change. The old emperor was a cold, soggy thing without a bit of blood. Never did have an heir, you know.”

“Do tell?” I pitched my voice for interest just this side of casual, as bait.

“Yes, I tell you, young justiciar, that we were all thankful to get a new ruler. The new emperor is a welcome change. Not only does he instigate learning, better thinking, and hygiene, he’s open minded; the old emperor’s idea of progressive change was feeding the palace staff out of better bowls.”

“Why put up with him so long, then?” I asked, moving closer so I could see better.

“Ah, he was a hostile old coot, convinced everyone was out to kill him,” the physician answered dismissively. “It would have happened, eventually. But, your lover came in like a god, asked him to step down, and history was made.” The man added a bit of reddish, finely ground powder to his work and began a downright aggressive macerating of the result, the cords in his old arms standing out as his muscles flexed. “I thank the Sun that he came, and I’m not the only one.”

“Really?” I picked up a jar and took the lid off for a good smell. It wasn’t an entirely familiar odor, but I caught the telltale tang of opiates. “Everyone I’ve met seems a bit lukewarm.”

“That’s because seventy percent of the populace is too busy philosophizing to remember they’re made out of meat,” the man told me in a tone that would have withered the most vibrant and succulent of plant life. “I don’t make that mistake. You can _over_ think things, you know; plenty of people do around here.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” I admitted. Holy Rassilon, this old man had figured out the basic constituents, configuration and cooking of Klah, a narcotic that the people of my world had done their best to make and failed. I made a note to ask him about it later, because I had more to worry about right now, but I really thought he might be an unsung genius.

“Well, the meat is what I treat,” the man said. “I tried to treat the spirit, too, but your average person around here thinks they’ve got the spirit covered, so no open arms there. Our emperor is a good example of what I like to treat, actually; he’s a broken thing that manages to make his separate pieces shine like pressed carbon.”

I turned my head, interested. “You can see he’s broken, but you’ve never approached him for healing?” I asked.

The ancient physician favored me with a long, lingering look of pity. “You would remove the thorn from the paw of a wild beast and then lecture him on briars?” He asked pointedly.

“Yeah, no,” I murmured. “The way of the wild beast is to be hurt and to continue on, yes?”

“Exactly.” My host finished grinding the herbs and began separating the powdery result into exact piles with a very keen knife. “You can’t stop the survival drive in a real predator, and that is what our emperor is; a predator.” He swept most of his work into a bag and put the rest into new, clean mortar. “I’m glad he chose a mate that can support him without being a crippling influence, like a silly female.” He added some blackish, thick stuff to the mortar and began grinding again. In a few moments he had a workable but tough paste, and he rolled it around some thin sticks he’d handily drawn from a nearby jar. “You’re an alien, like him,” he announced casually. “The same species?”

I decided not to prevaricate. “Yes, and we’re the only two left,” I told him.

The old doctor paused in his work to give me a look that somehow managed to encompass all the pain and hope of the universe. “Oh, my lord,” he whispered. “The worst thing isn’t being alone. It’s being the second most lonely.”

I swallowed back that recurrent ache in my throat. “As long as I have him, I’m okay,” I admitted.

“But, you cannot mate, cannot have a family,” he protested, continuing to work but with both eyes upon me.

“We could, actually,” I revealed. “We each had twelve times we could grow old and die only to be reborn in a new body, and there is an equal chance of either one of us becoming female each instance; we are Time Lords.” I felt my head moving for a little, helpless shake and just let it happen. “I’m nearing the end of my cycle. I only have a few lives left. Your new emperor has eleven more lives to use, and each one can last a thousand years if he’s careful.” I smiled at the old man, then, feeling more than a little bitter. “I haven’t been very careful, and neither has he, but our people granted him a new set of regenerative lives just before their extinction.”

The old, seemingly wise doctor nodded just once, his piercing grey eyes a study in perception and compassion. “You are an old man, like me, and he is a newborn,” he said. “Yet, my emperor knows he is old. He is like the soul that remembers his previous life upon being born from a new mother,”

“I guess,” I answered, getting his reincarnation reference easily.

The physician came to me with a bag in his hands. “My Lord Adjudicator,” he said, bowing to me once. “If you have nightmares it is only because you live too long, yet not long enough. If you have pain it is because you understand that every joy is followed by loss.” He pressed his work into my hand, then turned and swept up the sticks he’d rolled. “And, if you have desire, it is because you feel attraction to that which is your opposing force.” He reached up and placed his ancient, withered hand upon my jaw, patting me gently and kindly. “Please, take this old man’s advice and let all that hurts you, all that gives you joy, flood you to your basest cell.”

I gave him a short nod. “I will,” I assured. “If I’m good at anything, I’m good at assimilating everything that is hurtful and joyous.”

 

**

 


	4. Chapter 4

Armed with medicine and therapeutic incense, I returned to the Master’s quarters, finding him still on the veranda and in a stage just before sleep. I lit a stick of incense and placed it beside his bed, then stuck my head out into the hall to order a guard to get a fresh serving of tea and some lunch.

“Doctor?” The Master asked woozily, animating himself and shuffling to his bedroom. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to take care of you,” I answered. “Come and sit at your desk.”

The Master obediently took a seat where I directed. He slumped a few seconds before rallying. He looked around with drifting focus before settling upon me. “I’m not sure what day it is,” he confessed. “I made up my mind that it wasn’t a work day, and that I wouldn’t be needed, but I get the feeling I didn’t do my math right.”

“No, you did rightly,” I assured, removing his cloth shoes and off-setting myself so he could focus upon me easily. Of all things, for the Master to not believe his own math was more than troublesome. He was absolutely a math genius. “You’re just fine, Master. Someone’s bringing you tea and food, so you just sit and relax.” I made myself talk calmly, thought I wanted to just drop my head back and scream.

He went back to staring at his hands. Slowly, he began unwinding the gauze. I held my breath at the ruin, not saying anything, but my focus drifted toward the bed and his carmine stained sheets. Determined to do something, I got up and stripped them from the bed and carried them out into the hall. “I’ve had a nose bleed,” I said to a passing servant. “Could we get some clean sheets?”

“Oh, yes, my Lord Adjudicator,” the woman said quickly, taking the bundle of expensive linen away.

When I returned, the Master was back on the veranda, which I considered just as well, because his hands would be healed by tomorrow, but I hadn’t wanted the servants to know I lied about the nose bleed. So thinking, I intercepted the tea and food and brought them out to him myself. As I arranged things on the table, three women came and made short work of changing the bed.

Full daylight was just as pretty as morning and evening, here. The Master sniffed the hand rolled incense as he drank his tea, bruised and swollen fingers gripping the hot porcelain at the rim and not the handle. He looked out over the horizon and kept his eyes there as his mouth opened to speak. “She was a Time Lady, and I didn’t even know it,” he said, and my hearts beat faster as I realized he was about to tell me of Ailla.

“You asked me only once, a very long time ago, what made me so cruel,” he continued softly. “I suppose I let her make me cruel, Doctor.”

He didn’t say that she had made him cruel. He wasn’t comfortable putting all the blame on her, I supposed. I sat down and busied myself with tea, knowing that if I talked, he’d quit.

“She was my lover, and very beautiful.” He smiled, but the bitter twist to his lips told me he found no nostalgic pleasure in her memory. “Witty, funny, adventurous, imaginative. She made me feel like I wasn’t alone.”

I put a hand over my left heart and gripped. He could be speaking of Rose. I’d never gone to the physical side of my love for her, but it didn’t matter.

“When she was shot and killed, I went mad with grief,” the Master said, bowing his head. “I had no idea she was Gallifreyan. I made a device to interrupt time, to bring her back, but the end result was the destruction of Teriliptus. Then, Ailla showed back up, alive, and I realized I’d destroyed a planet for nothing. Also, she was an agent of the Celestial Intervention Agency, and had been sent to spy on me. Becoming my lover was just an easy way to get close to me.”

I tasted blood in my mouth and felt I’d bitten my tongue. I remembered this, but I’d come along after the big revelation of betrayal. I’d reprogrammed the Master’s weapon and trapped him in a black hole. The very morning he’d told me that his staff all believed I was his consort, he’d even brought up the black hole, and I hadn’t remembered. _I hadn’t remembered trapping the Master in a black hole_. It was horrible of me.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. It would never be enough, but I had to say it. Keeping me prisoner on the Valiant must have tasted very sweet to him. Yet, in contrast, what was a year of watching him destroy my beloved Earth when he’d had centuries alone, lives wasted, existing in despair and the furious urge to save himself?

The Master smiled again, this time with less bitterness. He drank a bit of tea and sampled a wedge of the cheesecake dessert we’d been given. “I forgave you,” he said, making my hearts thunder out of rhythm. “You only played the game according to the strictures and stakes I posed. But, I never forgave _her_. I would never and will never forgive her.”

I felt better and worse at the same time. His forgiveness was important to me even though I’d truly only been acting to stop his violence and death-dealing. Yet, if I’d had to think of Rose as a betrayer, like he did for Ailla, I didn’t know what would have happened to me, to my soul.

“I think you might have to, eventually,” I murmured. “Holding onto that only brings sickness.”

“I can’t, Doctor,” he whispered back. “She gleaned all the secrets of my hearts, held me, learned my every weakness and desire, then utterly crushed me. It was deliberate, calculated soul-murder.” He picked up his three tined fork and cut a bigger bite of the cheesecake, looking like he forced himself to eat something. “And, she taught me that our own people posed the worst criminals of the universe. I should have remembered that when the president came down to Earth. He rammed the lesson home again.” The Master slammed his fork down on the table suddenly, rattling the china with the one-two-three-four rhythm of madness over and over until a cup fell onto the floor and shattered.

I bit my lip in fear for him as he dropped everything and balled up in his seat, his wrists shielding his head. “Weakness,” he hissed. “I disgust myself, but you just sit there and think me the better man for having weak hearts!”

“I’ve never seen you stronger,” I argued, keeping my tone level. “Admitting weakness takes more courage than hiding from it. Besides, of all the words I could use to describe you, ‘weak’ isn’t one of them, and never has been.”

“You’re only being kind,” the Master replied swiftly. “You’re benevolent at your core, Doctor.”

“It’s nice you think so,” I said. “Whether that’s true or not, what’s wrong with allowing me to be kind to you? You’ve never let me, and I’d like to know why.”

The Master straightened to glare at me. “Allowing your kindness has always been dangerous for me. Kindness is an obligation.”

“Not for me it isn’t,” I countered. “And, it isn’t as if you aren’t capable of being kind in return. I know better.”

“Oh, yes, I have a secret ability to nurture others, nestled between my hearts, just waiting to use it.” He gave a disgusted shake of his head and reached for his tea, tossing the cold brew over the side of the veranda to pour more. “My altruism always has a purpose, Doctor.”

“It usually looks that way,” I admitted, “but only you know that for certain.”

“God,” he muttered. “You’re dripping your goodness all over me.”

“I’d bathe you in it if you’d let me.” I tried the cheesecake and found it first rate. “You need someone to be good to you, Master, and not because of that horrible Mata Hari that gives you nightmares.”

“Why, then?” He asked abruptly.

“Because you’re tired and you need to heal,” I answered. “You know that. You came here to Seldatia for a lot of reasons, but that was one of them.” I paused to consider that, and admitted ruefully that I’d stayed here for much the same reason. I couldn’t pass up the chance to watch the Master, not under any circumstances, but especially when the possibility of redemption presented. “I’m tired, too,” I told him, watching his eyes swing my way. “As you pursued wanton destruction at the behest of the drums, I’ve run from my drums with complete abandon. Never staying in one spot with one person long enough to self examine to any great length.”

The Master was silent for a few seconds before giving a short, dry laugh. “Christ. I can’t believe you admitted that.” He finished his tea and curled back up in his chair, but in a way that suggested seeking warmth, not from inward collapse. “But, if you stayed here to get some rest, you’ll probably fail to get it; look who your current companion is.”

I went into the bedroom and got one of the many blankets stacked at the end of his enormous bed, came back out and draped it over him before sitting down again. “I’ll take the stress you engender,” I assured. “In searching the entire universe for worthy company I’ve discovered there are a lot of people capable of helping me, setting me straight, even of saving my life. But, there’s only one of you.”

“Yeah, you killed the rest of them,” he muttered, getting a dig in at me while ignoring what I was trying to say to him. “And, good job, by the way.”

“You know what that cost me,” I replied.

“Oh, yeah, I do,” he assured lightly. “I hated them, but I feel their absence, too. The worst part is they aren’t really dead and gone, just removed. Like a cluster of cancerous cells kept alive in a Petri dish, frozen in some remote laboratory of the Almighty.”

I grimaced as the painful humor of that analogy made my stomach churn. “Sometimes you’re quite disgusting,” I complained.

 

**

 

I took the first dose of the anti-nightmare sleep aid myself to test it, and I tested it for three nights before I was satisfied it wouldn’t harm the Master. I did sleep better, and found a bit of relief from nocturnal horrors for the first time in centuries. I took to adding the stuff to whatever food would disguise it. The incense seemed to help us both, too, promoting a sense of peace without dampening down any natural, harmful emotions.

The Master immersed himself in working at the site of the aqueduct, a constant consultant that had the highest standards, while I concentrated on a complete evaluation of his household. We met up only after the sun went down, and I missed our evenings and mornings on his balcony veranda. But, we were finally getting something accomplished.

The local farmers had discovered the validity of sowing things so that water flowed over everything, and happily reported an increase in healthy seedlings. The people of the city had their election, women included, and voted for state-funded education, even for the females. Work began on the schools, subsequently, and I took a free hand in deciding the curriculum vitae. Thinking to make the education here comprehensive, I included domestic and agricultural courses along with language and maths, making home economics mandatory for everyone. No sense in keeping the women down, right?

In taking a comprehensive look at the Master’s palace workings I found he had a lot of unsung talent going to waste in jobs that the old emperor had deemed important. There was a mathematician languishing in an astrology lab, a linguistics expert serving as librarian, and a woman positively talented in psychiatric science working in the dungeon as a jailor. I saw what the old emperor had been trying to do, but disagreed with the assignments. I put the mathematician over the finances, the linguistics expert in charge of diplomatic issues, and set the psychiatrist up with an office inside the palace. She seemed a bit nervous over being encouraged to listen to the concerns of the entire staff, but once I explained patient privacy, she settled down happily.

Zaeus and Alair took an interest in my wanderings and followed me around quite a bit. I found the old festival planner and his granddaughter good company, and didn’t mind a bit that I’d gained them as an entourage. Alair stuck as close as possible, listening to every exchange with complete, silent attention. Her level of concentration impressed me, especially when it became apparent she retained what she heard.

One afternoon the three of us took a picnic lunch on the grounds. Zaeus wandered to collect plant life afterward, for he was an amateur botanist, leaving me and Alair to blow soap bubbles into the moderate, warm breezes. She’d never done this before. Indeed, no one had; I’d brought a new pastime to Seldatia.

“Where’s the pretty emperor?” She asked me as I blew a very large bubble and coaxed it airborne.

I smiled at her phraseology. “He’s helping to make sure the aqueduct works properly,” I informed. “It’s important that everyone gets clean water.” I handed the bottle and wand over so she could take her turn.

Alair, proving to me that Seladatian children were as naturally interested and adept at blowing bubbles as Earth children, made a huge bubble and sent it up, laughing in delight. “Oh, look at the colors! Why are there so many colors?”

I could have launched a lengthy lesson on light dispersion, refraction and such, but chose not to. Some things were best enjoyed without knowing the scientific reasoning behind them. “All light is colored; we just can’t see it until the bubble shows us,” I told her. “Like the sky sometimes decides we need to see a rainbow.”

“Magic,” she said solemnly. She forgot to give me my turn, but I let her dominate the soap solution easily. She was enchanting in her selfish wish to see the colors.

“Exactly, magic,” I agreed. “Always leave room for magic and impossible things in life.”

Alair nodded, taking my words as a lesson she needed to retain. Schooling, any sort of schooling, was very important to her people, and she displayed that perfectly. “You’d make a good daddy,” she declared. “Do you have kids?”

I shook my head. “Not anymore. They died a long time ago.”

Alair stopped blowing bubbles and favored me with the sort of kindness only a child can offer. “I’m sorry. Is that why your eyes are always so sad?”

“Partly,” I admitted.

“Your husband, too?” She asked. She’d persisted in calling the Master my husband no matter how often her grandfather corrected her. I’d stopped trying a long time ago. Lately, it had seemed more truthful to go along with that, anyway.

“Yes. I feel sad for him a lot of the time. He’s carrying a lot of pain.”

Alair went back to blowing bubbles for a few minutes. She corked the bottle and gave it back to me suddenly. “Maybe you should show him some magic,” she said. “I don’t think he believes in it anymore. Most grown-ups don’t.”

“Well, okay,” I said. “What sort of magic?”

“Like the Original Tales,” she answered.

“I don’t know what those are,” I admitted.

“You’ve never read the Original Tales?” Alair looked at me with wide, astonished eyes. “They even let girls read the Original Tales!”

I smiled at her enthusiasm. “I will, too, then,” I said. “I’ll do it tonight.”

 

**

 

Interestingly, with a few changes of social details and gender, the Original Tales consisted of themes closely resembling Earth’s oddly moralized fairy tales. The magic involved wasn’t fairy-given, but elemental bestowments based on character merit. Being kind to one’s parents caused the favor of Fire. Making friends and expecting nothing of them made Earth take notice. Being honest caused the element of Wood to be available to you. Hard work was attributed to Spirit, thriftiness to Air, and being a proper lover was Water’s jurisdiction.

I’d always liked fairy tales, so I took my time reading these building blocks of Seldatian society instead of speeding through. The Master returned to his quarters just as I’d immersed myself into Water for Love. He glanced at the title of my book, which was of course Original Tales, and smirked a little. “Light reading?” He asked, and his voice sounded tired. We hadn’t been able to speak more than a few sentences to each other in over a week, being so busy.

“Of a sort,” I admitted. The passage at my holding place seemed to leap out at me.

 

 _Although Haddon understood his mate’s regard, and returned it, he didn’t understand why they’d been betrothed at such an early age. Why, many of the girls and boys in their village hadn’t a care for their early betrothal, and approached their very serious unions with laughter, or even worse, disdain and avoidance. But, Haddon’s husband-to-be never spoke of their alliance at all, so Haddon never did either_.

 

The Master and I had always been in each other’s orbit. We’d enjoyed being together even while fighting.

“I don’t have to go to the aqueduct site tomorrow,” the Master said, removing his shoes before his sword. “It’s a holiday. Sigglis intercepted me downstairs to give that information. It’s a day of rest assigned to some capricious air deity.”

 

 _Haddon wished with all his might that Lann would talk to him about their union, but fear has a way of making people silent, except for tears. Since Lann would not tolerate tears, Haddon had to shed them in private. In fact, he kept most of himself private; fearing the censure and ridicule Lann might turn his way. Haddon thought the worst thing in the world would be to offer the deep emotions of his heart only to have them burnt up by Lann’s disfavor_.

 

“I thought at first that elemental worship wouldn’t be a difficult thing to get around, but now I have to wonder,” the Master continued on, sweeping a long, black garment from his wardrobe and draping it over his arm. “Order a fairly substantial supper,” he added. “I’m famished.” With that, he headed off for his bathroom.

 

 _So, Haddon, who took the role of the secondary male in the union, a role with no more importance than that of dutiful wife, simply attended Lann with all the power his hidden love could hold. He excused Lann’s remoteness, likening it to the elusive beauty of stars, which were always in the sky to be admired, but never touched. He burned like fire for Lann’s touch, but told himself that because their union would never produce children, that their union had a higher calling. He lay awake at night beside of Lann and listened to him breathe, attributing his attentive worry to the simple idea that he didn’t want to be alone. Everyone had a mate, and if he lost his he would forever wander the grasslands as a wraith_.

 

I put the book down and mechanically ordered supper. If not for the age of the book I would almost think it written specifically for me, and I didn’t believe in coincidence. I’d been pointed toward this story by someone or something. The implications of that made me afraid on such a basic level that I almost couldn’t surface from it. I wanted to hurry and read more yet I dreaded doing so. The end result pushed me into pacing and staring at nothing.

“What’s wrong?” The Master emerged from the bathroom, and when I turned to look at him, the sight of him stopped me dead.

He had a slight glow to his water-beaded skin, probably from standing in the sun for days and days in a svond one could almost read through. Blond highlights were peeking through his dark, short hair. His eyes, so intelligent and alert, were shadowy and wary. The close fitting garment he’d chosen flared out from the waist like a cassock. He looked strong and confident and handsome.

“Culture shock, I guess,” I managed to reply. Then, because I was determined to not lie about something this important, I added, “I frequently have epiphanies that aren’t planned.”

The Master grinned with only one side of his mouth. “God, you’re so arrogant,” he said in a good natured way. “One doesn’t plan an epiphany, Doctor. An epiphany slams you in the side of the head and then stomps you for good measure.” He glided past me for the balcony. I couldn’t, just absolutely couldn’t help sniffing the breeze he created; that dark, rich copal scent that was uniquely the Master.

 

_He excused Lann’s remoteness, likening it to the elusive beauty of stars, which were always in the sky to be admired, but never touched._

 

Our meal came, so I took it out to him.

 

_So, Haddon, who took the role of the secondary male in the union, a role with no more importance than that of dutiful wife, simply attended Lann with all the power his hidden love could hold._

 

Stop that! I told myself and served us. I was so distracted and confused that my hands shook. Of course, the Master noticed.

“That bad, eh?” He asked. “Care to share?”

 

 _Haddon thought the worst thing in the world would be to offer the deep emotions of his heart only to have them burnt up by Lann’s disfavor_.

 

“I intend to, but I can’t at the moment,” I answered in a rush. “I’m still thinking.”

“Fine,” the Master answered amiably. “Rassilon only knows the power of thought. Sometimes it would be nice to be a simple construct, wouldn’t it?”

“I made a construct in your image once,” I confessed before thinking of it, then mentally shoved a burning poker down my throat. But, the poker didn’t stop my fool mouth at all. “He’s in my TARDIS. He deactivated himself when he discovered he wasn’t the original Master. Committed suicide the only way a machine can.”

The Master stopped moving, his wineglass nearly at his lips. Very slowly, he turned his head to look at me. “You what?” He asked, though his voice projected he’d heard every syllable that left me.

I cleared my throat nervously. “I made a robotic copy of you,” I reiterated. “Physically, he was perfect. At least what I’d seen of you.” I felt myself blushing and couldn’t quit. “I gave him as much of your personality as I could discern, the mannerisms you had in that regeneration, and your tastes.”

He continued to stare at me and I felt I’d burst into embarrassed flames any second, but I still couldn’t stop my idiot mouth.

“I missed you,” I defended. “You’d made it perfectly clear you wouldn’t cross the street to wee on me if I caught fire, so I soldiered on.”

The Master slowly finished bringing the wine to his lips. He took a good, hard swallow of it and set the glass down deliberately. “Which regeneration?” he asked.

“The quasi-Svengali one, the one you wore when I was Earth-imprisoned.” I sat and fretfully picked at a loaf of bread, not even tasting what went onto my tongue. “If you want to see him, he’s in the cupboard past the robotics lab.”

“Oh, I want to see him,” the Master assured me swiftly. “After dinner, we’re going to your TARDIS.” He shook his head, looking amazed for a moment. “Svengali?”

“Hypnotist with a lot of hair,” I explained with a sense of abandon. “Classic villain.”

The Master chuckled a little. “I’m flattered,” he drawled. He cut into his steak with precise efficiency.

Relieved he wasn’t pitching a wobbly, I made an effort to tend to my meal. I’d forgotten to slip him the nightmare remedy, but I couldn’t do anything about that now.

“You made a copy of me because you missed me,” he said, summing up the information.

“You shot me and swanned off,” I groused. “Forgive me for feeling lost and nostalgic.”

The Master grinned and took a bite of his supper at last. “Only ten percent of me wanted to kill you,” he confessed. “The rest of me was consumed by a maddening rhythm, impotent rage at being thwarted by you yet again, and a general malaise.”

“That was the last time I saw you in that body,” I said softly. “I liked him, too.”

“Apparently, for you immortalized it,” he parried.

We ate without much discussion, going little farther than a desire for salt and seasoning. Afterward, the Master settled back with a cigar and a glass of brandy that had been included on his tray. His servants knew what he wanted, I supposed.

“Smell that nice, cloying sweetness?” He asked suddenly jolting me from my covert examination of his form. “It’s called Nuealnath Vine. The bees here make extraordinary honey from it. The more accomplished kitchen alchemists combine it with a sorghum-type molasses for a variety of things. The main one is a basic constituent of beer.”

I looked over the edge of our balcony to see the vine he’d been talking about. It started near the western corner and climbed to just underneath us. It was loaded with white and yellow, trumpet shaped flowers and the bees absolutely swarmed it. “Fast growing?” I asked. If I reached out I might be able to snatch a flower…

The Master hauled me back by my wrist so fast I spun in place. “Don’t touch it,” he warned harshly. “The vine secretes an alkaloid sap, and the flower itself is used in impotence remedies. Unless you want to walk around here tripping the light fantastic with a priapismatic boner, leave it be.”

Yeah, awkward,” I muttered, sitting back down. My wrist ached where he’d grabbed me. “And they make beer out of it?”

“They make tons of things with it,” he corrected. “They were drinking the beer all during the festival we just skimmed through, or hadn’t you been paying attention?” Giving me a last warning sort of look, the Master finished his wine and stubbed out the cigar. “We’re going to your TARDIS now,” he announced.

 

**

 

The Master sniffed the air in my TARDIS and looked at me. “Why does it smell like violets in here now?”

“She does that when she’s thinking,” I explained, leading him down the hall. “If I were you I’d announce it when I intended to touch her. You were right not to go wandering alone the last time we were in here; she might be sulking. Electrocution is the least of your worries.”

We walked and walked. I’d forgotten it was such a long trek to the robotics lab. Fretting at what kind of scene the Master might make upon seeing his copy, I started getting more than a little anxious.

“Do you always have to be tall and long-legged?” The Master complained.

“You were taller than me once,” I defended distractedly. “I don’t have any control over how I regenerate.”

“You could if you’d only concentrate a little bit and not surrender to the artron flood like a crack fiend,” he argued.

“Bitch, bitch, bitch,” I said back. “You pick holes in me at any given opportunity.”

“That’s because you bleed so prettily,” he replied, drawing alongside. “Seeing you in distress is addictive. I can’t help it. You’re performance art. You know I like the arts.”

I realized he was nervous, and made an effort to slow down and concentrate upon him. “I’ll take your word for it,” I said. “We’re nearly there.”

We reached the proper alcove, and I put my hand on the door. “Look,” I said, “I don’t want you to think I-.”

“Just open the damned door,” the Master told me, his jaw going tight afterward.

I pulled, and the Master came face to face with himself. He stared at the copy, his eyes going darker with interest, even fascination. Slowly, he reached out a hand to touch his copy’s jaw, and the robot turned itself on.

I stepped back automatically, stunned. I hadn’t programmed him to turn back on when touched.

“There you are,” the mechanical Master said, looking into his flesh counterpart’s eyes. “What took you so long?”

“I didn’t know you existed,” the Master protested, going on the defensive. “Maybe if you hadn’t been hiding in a cupboard, sulking…?”

“It isn’t sulking. I wasn’t.” The copy stepped out and began fussing with getting the wrinkles out of his clothes. He glanced over at me and curled his lip. “The younger look suits you,” he announced.

“I…”

“What brings the pair of you here together?” The robotic Master asked, looking us both over with frank criticism. “Temporary alliance? Boredom? Loneliness?”

“It’s complicated,” the Master answered shortly.

“It always is,” he shot back.

“How are you powered?” The Master demanded.

“Oh, he made me with all sorts of power sources,” the mechanical Master replied easily. “My pores are solar collectors, and my hair follicles are actually minute power relays; movement across my hair generates energy, so a windy day is particularly invigorating.” He smiled at us both, and very slyly. “He made me so I could eat, and I have an internal combustion engine about here.” He placed a gloved hand over his abdomen. “There’s no reason I should ever go dormant, except for personal choice.”

“Then why did you turn off?” The Master gestured to me without looking. “You could have taken control.”

The robotic Master shook his head. “Alas, the Doctor made me so that I wouldn’t,” he answered. “I have a nagging, distasteful conscience.”

The Master looked at me, disgust and humor taking turns in his eyes. “Christ, that is SO you,” he said. “Making a copy of me that could feel bad about something. Did that soothe you, Doctor?”

“Actually, he didn’t find me at all soothing,” the android answered for me. “He made me too well for that.” He finished straightening his clothes and regarded us with level calm. “Is there some task I must perform?” He leaned past the Master and shifted my collar, smoothing the drape of the svond carefully. “You always go about so untidy and Bohemian,” he griped. In the next second he had my face in his hands, looking into my eyes with frightening focus. “I know what you’ve done,” he told me. “I’ve been in constant communication with your TARDIS.”

I swallowed hard. I’d made this Master, but he still frightened me. In fact, he’d filled me with a constant sense of dread from the moment even before I activated him. I couldn’t think of a thing to say, either.

“Well done,” the mechanical Master continued. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, Doctor, but you made the correct choice. You had no alternatives open except for doing nothing, and we both know you’re incapable of simply turning your back on a threat that massive.”

“Oh, give it up,” the Master said impatiently. “He’s soaked in the blood of billions and you can’t make him feel better.”

His counterpart lifted his eyebrow. “Maybe not,” he murmured, and I got the terrifying idea he could see inside of me. “But I know of someone who could.” He stepped back. “Now, if I’m not actually needed for anything, kindly vacate. I’m disinclined to chat with either of you, currently.” He walked back into the cupboard and shut the door.

The Master and I didn’t say a word to each other the entire trip back to the palace. Once we occupied his quarters again, he met my eyes and gave me a wondering head shake. “You’re absolutely a bastard,” he declared. “Making a brilliant thing like that with my personality. He didn’t just give me the creeping fugwugs, he made me want to dig a hole and crawl in it.”

“Yeah…” I had no defense, just none. “He always worried me, actually. And, I’ll tell you something else; I didn’t program him to activate when you touched him. That was all him.”

The Master looked down at my chest a moment and gave a sigh. “He stole my TARDIS key from around your neck and neither one of us saw him do it,” he announced, his voice utterly calm. As I batted at the nothingness on my chest, he took my key off and dropped the chain over my head. “Better hide that one in your clothes,” he said.

 

**

 

The Master and I again went our separate ways for a week. I found I was enjoying myself here on Seldatia. It felt different to stick around and watch things progress. Sort of instant-gratificationy; I’d often pop back and forth to places I’d tried to change for the better, but never really saw the incremental progress.

One night, while tidying up after a long, long day at the aqueduct site, I discovered I’d tanned very deeply, even under the eyeliner. Since I didn’t look in a mirror that often, I’d not noticed until I was very dark. Come to think of it, the Master was dark, too. Our pallor had evaporated while standing under an alien sun. Looking at my arms, I saw I was still hairless. Maybe I hadn’t had enough time to grow it back?

A note on the Master’s bed told me he wouldn’t be back until well after dark. I looked at his splendid penmanship, feeling a little twinge of fondness. Ever the artist, my Master. He did nothing without flair. Earth people had a saying that God is in the details, but I suspected the Devil was, too.

I’d moved my TARDIS into his quarters despite the Master’s bitter complaints. I thought he might just be sour over having his lovely TARDIS stolen by his android copy. Really, I should be worried over that, but I wasn’t. Some strange, indefinable sense told me that the Master’s counterpart wasn’t wrecking havoc. Still, moving my own TARDIS here was an extra measure against having it stolen, too. I didn’t want stranded here no matter how much I was growing accustomed to the linear life.

I had energy left, so I went inside my beloved time machine just to be with her. As always, she gave me a welcome feeling. I left the door open because no one but the Master would come into his bedroom at this time of night, and took a small task of cleaning Vortex patina off the relays of the Mean Free Path Tracker.

“Not the same when I see you in here wearing a svond,” the Master’s voice said some unknown time later.

“Yeah, but I’m getting used to having my bits hanging free and decided not to ruin that,” I joked, looking up as he sauntered in.

He saw what I was doing and gave a little smile. “I don’t give you enough to do?”

“Well…” I didn’t know what I should say to that.

“Homesick?” He asked, leaning on the frame. “You’ve spent centuries in this ridiculous blue box.”

“I suppose I needed to touch base with her,” I admitted. God, he was a charismatic, engaging thing. The longer I spent time with him, the more I remembered I’d once found it horrible to part with him for even a day. “I wasn’t leaving, I promise.”

“Oh, I know,” he assured, folding his arms over his chest. “I haven’t frightened you enough yet.” He took one step into the TARDIS, a deliberate one, and stood there as if daring my time machine to zap him.

She didn’t.

“I don’t always run when I’m frightened,” I protested, offended and feeling irritability setting in.

He lifted his eyebrows. “I didn’t say that, did I?”

I started to feel like I was missing something. Frequently, I did, at least with him. He could trick me and trick me and trick me.

The Master looked around a moment before backing out. “Bathing,” he announced. “Kindly do the same before you get into bed; you’re covered in filth.” As he walked away from the TARDIS I heard him add, “Could get that way in a perfectly clean room.”

I found my hearts were hammering, and that I wanted to follow him. Quite on purpose, I went back to work.

 

**

 

After a decent night’s sleep, I traveled toward the aqueduct feeling a bit optimistic. Work seemed to be progressing well, and I still wasn’t bursting at the seams to leave. The guards were accustomed to my unseemly habit of walking by now, and didn’t cluster as tightly around me as they once did. I thought that was progress until a sharp pain in my head knocked me into blackness.

When I woke I was tied to a wooden pole in the middle of a dense forest, people arguing all around me. Bleary, my head positively in agony, I tried to focus and get my bearings. The people around me were dressed in much the same way as other Seldatians, but with an obvious difference. They were all barefoot.

“You should not have taken the emperor’s mate!” A man shouted, pointing toward me but speaking to a very large man with a bushy black beard. “You have seen what the emperor can do! At the Harvest Festival he choked a man with his mind!”

“A trick,” the large man claimed diffidently. “But, he cannot coax a trick when Suri is watching.”

“It wasn’t a deceit!” The first man threw his hands into the air. “Laijan wasn’t duplicitous. I tell you, Suri, the new emperor is not like the old one; he has special, fire-based powers.” He pointed at me again. “You’ve condemned us all by taking his beloved!” The man grabbed up a blanket from the ground and slung it over his shoulder. “I cannot stay here and take the blame for what you’ve done.”

Suri took a stone from the ground as his adversary turned his back, and before I could give a warning, smashed the man’s head in. “There are no traitors here,” he proclaimed as his opponent fell lifeless.

The other people stepped far away as Suri began to pace before them. “When we tell the emperor we have his consort, and demand that he leave our women at home where they belong, he will retract his new laws and elections,” he proclaimed. “He will comply, or we will kill his Second.”

“But, Suri, we have had the emperor’s consort two days now,” another man said. “No hiding place is entirely secure. Eventually he will think to look in the Forbidden Lands.”

“We are safe here,” Suri claimed. “The emperor obeys the natural laws, and no one may hunt in the Forbidden Lands.”

The pain in my head swelled the moment I tested my bonds, and I sank back into unconsciousness.

 

**

 

Agony became something that never left me. Every time my accelerated healing kicked in, Suri or one of his men treated me to a beating. I counted thirty of them, eventually. They especially seemed to favor breaking my fingers. They broke one for every day that the Master didn’t reply to their demands. Thumbs aren’t technically fingers, but they hurt the worst when broken.

There was one woman in this group of thugs, and at night she’d steal out to try and relieve my pain. I kept very still and quiet when she tended to me, fearing if I made a noise she’d be discovered and beaten, or even killed. These men had no qualms about killing each other.

They wouldn’t let me tend to my more animal needs in private, and the smells soon began to sicken me. Humiliation couldn’t even come into play now. I was only thankful they hadn’t resorted to targeting my most tender areas. But, they didn’t feed me, either, and even my remarkable biology couldn’t power itself on nothing but water. If not for that kind woman, I wouldn’t even get the water.

All ten digits broken and the back of both hands, I decided the Master either couldn’t find me, or wouldn’t. It might be a political disadvantage to give into my kidnapper’s demands. This wasn’t the worst situation I’d ever been in, of course, but it ranked with the most painful. Using a Chameleon Arch didn’t hurt like this. If only they’d kill me I could regenerate and get free, which might be what the Master had in mind, but they didn’t harm me that much. Almost, but not quite.

Story of my life, that; almost, but not quite.

 

**

 

The Master came with a group of guards, and stood very still with his eyes upon me while his men rounded up the Suri dissidents. Once everyone stood in a circle, the Master singled out the lone female and gestured for the guards to bring her to his side. She was very, very afraid, and stood like a statue, staring straight ahead. I wondered if she had a husband or lover in the group, and if his death would hurt her. For, the Master reeked of death now. Everyone present sensed it. Even Suri was subdued.

The Master came to me and freed me himself. I collapsed, but he caught me. “If only you’d screamed,” he whispered in my ear as he helped me stand upright. “We would have heard you.”

I exposed my throat to show him I couldn’t. I was swollen from being beaten, and couldn’t talk the last two days. But, I was glad, so glad he hadn’t abandoned me out of political needs.

The Master’s eyes took in the ruin of me slowly. Very carefully, he picked up my hands and looked at my twisted, badly healing fingers, at the bones poking through the flesh of the backs. “Your beautiful hands, Doctor,” he murmured, his voice regretful. “I thought they suited you better than any you’d owned.” He led me over to a litter and helped me get on it, and the two men at each end were very cautious about keeping it stable.

“Take them to the dungeons,” the Master said, walking up to the front of the group. “Back to the palace.”

I drifted in and out of consciousness, aware I was being carried but not entirely in the here and now. The men carrying me were doing a very good job of not jostling. When good, warming sunlight hit my face I sighed in relief. The forest had been so dark and cold.

I was carried directly to the Master’s quarters and into the bathroom. The Master dismissed my litter bearers and once again helped me to stand. “Brace on the sink,” he ordered quietly, and I put my elbows on it because the pain in my hands was so great I couldn’t bear any pressure on them whatsoever. He took the collar of my svond and ripped it. The sound of the delicate, half-rotting fibers giving way and the dirt, blood and other unspeakable things collected in them hitting the air, made me sick. My head pounding, I poised naked over the sink and retched.

The lack of the Master’s invective proved to me that he was so angry over my state that he couldn’t speak of it. I shivered even as I vomited, knowing that soon my captors would die because of what they’d done to me. The Master’s quiet menace projected. I wouldn’t be able to stop him. Nothing would stop him.

“Bath first,” the Master insisted, and he gave me water to rinse out my mouth. “Aside from your hands I can’t even see what needs treated; well, except for the whacking great hole in your head.”

He got me into the water. In a moment I was surrounded in slippery heat, my back resting in his arm and my bottom in his lap. He held me like I meant something to him. I felt a miserly tear trying to escape my left eye, and just let it do as it pleased. Exhaustion and pain disoriented me.

I hadn’t been bathed by someone else since a child. The Master had hands as gentle as my mother’s. It took him ages to clean me with such a light touch. He didn’t use a flannel; I suspected because the abrasion of one would hurt. He was so careful and respectful that I didn’t care when he had to clean areas that were problematic and private. In fact, I was thankful. I hadn’t the dignity of cleanliness in a long time.

“The woman kept you alive, didn’t she?” The Master asked, his tone pitched to show he didn’t expect me to answer. “When we came, I felt her fear for you.”

I managed a tiny nod.

“She was their slave. They used her as men are wont to do.” The Master patiently and tenderly began removing the caked up filth on my face. “I thought you’d like to know I gave charge of her to the palace physician, Matreus. You know, the one who gave you those narcotics you thought you were so sly in giving me.”

I would have groaned, if possible.

The Master chuckled. “Lower your mental shields if you want to talk.”

I did. _Wasn’t trying to deceive_ , I protested.

“I know what you were intending, Doctor,” he assured softly. “You’re such a martyr. You didn’t think I noticed I’d blackened your eye?”

_No one else saw, did they?_

“Alair told me not to hurt her pretty Doctor,” he answered. “I believe she was the only one besides myself that noticed.” He smoothed some grit out of my left eyebrow, then my right. “You know your fingers have started to heal crooked?”

_Yeah. They have to be broken again to mend right._

“Look into my eyes,” he murmured.

I couldn’t disobey that tone. Some distant part of me felt offended he’d take control of me, especially so effortlessly, but most of me only wanted to do what he wished. Those eyes captured me. They’d always drawn me, no matter their color, because his eyes were always his eyes. Forever beautiful. Forever powerful. Mesmerizing, hypnotic, irresistible.

I thought I could see his soul, now, and wondered if that wasn’t just the hallucinatory effects of starvation and torture. But, there it was, radiant around him in layers of ultraviolet, artron gold, and pulsating carmine. Swirling, swirling, hot as the fires that consumed Gallifrey. Our planet lived in him, the best and the worst of it. He was all I’d ever have of Gallifrey now, and I knew I’d rather have him than the whole of our world.

The Master blinked and I woke as if from a trance. I was braced against the interior of the tub now, with a half-inch thick coating of gel ice stabilizing my hands, gel ice that could only have come from my TARDIS. He’d gone into my machine, taken medical supplies, broken my fingers and dipped them in the translucent casts, all without my knowledge. Bile heaved up in my throat at the ease in which he’d managed me.

“Don’t condemn me for saving you from a bit of pain,” he scolded without heat. “You needed your hands stabilized after I broke them over again. At least in the gel ice you can’t feel them mending. Now, hold still; you have thorns embedded in your scalp, and this will take time.” He poured warm water over my head from a pitcher, but gently, with one hand over my eyes so the water wouldn’t run into them.

 _Your motive was pure enough,_ I thought, _but you shouldn’t take control of me so easily. I’m a Time Lord, too_.

“You haven’t spent centuries turning your willpower into a weapon,” he pointed out calmly, and began pulling the thorns from my head. “These were jabbed in here deliberately,” he added, his voice gone quite flat. “And, snapped off at the scalp line.”

I started shivering again.

“We found a body in the brush,” the Master informed. “A lone protester to Suri’s actions?”

_Yes. Murdered when his back was turned._

The Master’s jaw clenched briefly. “I’ve done my share of it,” he admitted. “For that alone I cannot judge.” With needle-fine tweezers, he dug out the wooden shards and dropped them on the edge of the tub one by one. “In this culture, the dead are put into the ground clean and naked as an offering to Earth,” he told me. “No embalming, no cosmetics, no oils, nothing that would slow down decay. For Suri to throw a man into the weeds for carrion birds and insects, that is a remarkable show of contempt. The people will not be satisfied unless his punishment is similar. It is their custom, and I think it a good one.”

 _Religious rites aren’t easily maneuvered around,_ I admitted. _I once accidently knocked over a funereal fire on Haldi Five, and had to apologize by gathering lightning fire to relight the pyre_.

“Ouch,” the Master said, getting the magnitude of my offense and the measures I had to take to put it right. “Hold still, Doctor; this one is very deep.”

I gasped at the sharp pain, the large thorn sliding out of my flesh. My whole body seized up with the effort to not flinch away. I remembered getting that one, then. It had been shoved in just above my ear with as much finesse as hammer against nail. Suri’s work, actually.

A knock came at the bathroom door. The Master moved his lips out from a grimace to call out, “Enter.”

Matreus came into the bathroom, Alair and the woman from Suri’s camp in tow. The adult woman shielded her eyes, but not before I saw shame in them. She felt very bad about what had been done to me. Alair looked into my eyes and I saw an acceptance beyond her few years. She tugged on the woman’s hand. “Pretty Doctor needs medicine,” she encouraged, holding up the wooden box she carried. “Nice Matreus is teaching us, so pay attention.”

 _Should they really be seeing all this blood?_ I asked the Master. Every thorn he removed made a bleeding runnel down my face and shoulders. The bath was absolutely red. I’d even dripped down the sides of the tub and onto the floor.

 _They intend to study medicine, so I suppose the answer is ‘yes’,_ the Master answered, keeping the conversation private. But, at the same time he bade Matreus to begin his work. He could carry on two conversations at once, which I found very impressive.

“What is this you have on the Lord Adjudicator’s hands?” Matreus asked as he beckoned his female charges to hover close to him.

“It’s called gel ice,” the Master answered, still patiently ridding me of hateful thorns. “As the injury heals, the translucent padding gets thinner and thinner. When it’s gone, it’s no longer needed. I’d tell you how it’s made, but you don’t have the proper chemicals on this planet to reproduce it. Possibly, the Doctor here can help you whip up an alternative that works in a similar fashion. I’m not the medical man of the two of us.”

Matreus smiled a thin, but genuine little smile. “Yes, as his name is a title, I can follow,” he assured. He perched on the rim of the tub to examine my throat, and made a tsk-tsk noise. “It isn’t as bad as it looks, but his larynx is badly bruised. It might be weeks for a Seldatian to recover well enough to speak, but as your consort is an alien, how could I judge?”

“I’d say two days,” the Master replied. “But whatever you can do to alleviate the pain is welcome.” He’d moved to the other side of my head, seemingly unconcerned with showing his nakedness to anyone in the room. And, with good reason. He was of perfect, if nearly miniature, form.

 _I’m five feet and nine inches tall_ , he scolded me mentally. _Hardly a dwarf even if not stupidly tall, like you_. Aloud, he asked Alair to bring him the rubbing alcohol, which she did with alacrity. He set it down beside my elbow and continued. _I chose this height, I’ll have you know. I happen to enjoy getting in and out of tight places with ease_.

 _Oh, that’s you_ , I agreed. I felt distinctly woozy. Matreus was applying some sort of spirits-based plaster to my neck, and the fumes made everything swim. He frequently had to dam up a blood flow from the Master’s work to get the thick cloth to lay right. Or something. I had no idea at this point. _I think I might faint_ , I added.

“Smelling salts,” the Master barked, and Matreus handed him a vial. The sharpness went up my nose and stabbed my brain. Wheezing, I managed to nudge the Master’s hand away with my elbow. He told Alair to get him a thick towel, and when she did, he covered my face with it and ordered the woman with her to fan air across me. In the next moment I had high grade alcohol going over every crater in my scalp, and I thrashed with enthusiasm and strength I didn’t know I had.

_Sodding-fuck-damn!_

The Master gave a small, bitter chuckle. “Yeah, I can imagine,” he drawled. “But, these are already infected.”

I shivered and shook, then, but not from the vile alcohol or the soft plaster on my neck that smelled so bad. I shivered because the Master’s voice went into my body directly. He’d bent over me from behind to keep me still, and my head rested just under his ribcage and against his tight, muscled abdomen. Hoping I hadn’t actualized that mentally, I threw my mental defenses up. But, God, his arms were wrapped around my chest, and his hand kept the towel firmly pressed to my face. He intended I didn’t get fumes up my nose, and he was succeeding, because he was a lot stronger than me right now. I dared to assume he was anyway; beasts tend to exhibit a lot of physical might.

The towel was taken away and I gulped in a lungful of steaming, blood-scented air, no alcohol fumes. Alair came up to me with a glass of water, which I gratefully let her give me. “Pretty Doctor,” she said, patting the only spot on my arm that didn’t hurt, “I think you’ll be all right if you just rest.”

I spared some energy to smile at the precious little girl, then drank the entire glass in one go.

“Here is an opiate that will give the Lord Adjudicator rest,” Matreus said, handing over a small packet of cunningly folded waxed paper to the Master. “Make him put it under his tongue, or smoke it,” he added, giving him a small pipe made of brassy metal. “He should use it at least a week, even if his healing is phenomenal; I say that because trauma of this type isn’t limited to the body.”

“Understood,” the Master said solemnly, putting the packet on the edge of the dry sink instead of letting the wrap melt on the edge of the blood and water soaked tub. “Matreus, you are to go to the head of finances here and take a thousand ciere for yourself, and another thousand to divide between your charges. Also, request five hundred ciere for a renewal of your supplies. I expect you to be on call for me until my… consort… is fully healed.”

“My emperor is generous,” Matreus said with a bow. He began to leave, but the Master held up his hand to stop him and his entourage.

“What is your name?” He asked the woman who’d kept me alive.

“Raenna,” she answered, keeping her head down.

The Master tilted his head as he tasted that name. “Raenna,” he repeated. “You will make an excellent physician. I will not punish you for being a part of Suri’s dissidents. Attend all that Matreus teaches, and also take the schooling that I offer the people of Seldatia. You will room with your mentor until he deems you fit to act independently, and then you will take residence here in the palace as his attendant physician. Do you understand?”

“My emperor,” Raenna said, falling on the floor before him and keeping her face to the stone. “It will be as you command. And, I thank you.”

The Master waved his hand. “You saved the life of my consort,” he said. “For that you will always have your emperor’s favor. I only ask that you teach Alair all that you are taught.”

“My emperor, I will ensure the child is better educated than even I,” she assured, crawling backward.

Alair came to the Master and stood before him, then, her infinitely young eyes bright with humor and even devotion. She put her small hands on the Master’s face and leaned in. “Pretty emperor,” she said. “I love you for loving the pretty Doctor.” She reached up on tip-toe to kiss the Master’s forehead. “Let him show you magic,” she pleaded. With that, she bowed and backed away the same as her companions. In mere moments the Master and I were alone in his sumptuous bathroom.

The Master heaved a sigh that seemed to encompass all that had happened while reserving emotion for all that had yet to happen. He hooked his arms under my elbows and hauled me out to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “A child’s love,” he said as he gathered a long towel around my waist and knotted it. “I’ve never had that, being a villain.”

I couldn’t answer, not with a damaged larynx and my mental defenses at maximum. Still, I reached over and squeezed his bicep to show my understanding. Even with the gel ice, that gesture hurt.

The Master helped me to his bed and put me in it carefully. His dark eyes regarded me. With grace and sloth, he extinguished our candles, except for one, and covered me. “You’ll take some of the remedy Matreus left right now,” he informed. “Lift up your tongue.”

I did, and he put a small ball of the foulest tasting shite under it. He pinned my lips closed, and, leaning over me, gave a warning. “Leave it,” he said. “If I find you’ve spit it out, there’ll be hell to pay, dear Doctor.”

I let him know I’d obey with a flicker of my eyes. Satisfied, he got under the covers beside me and extinguished the candles. “Good night, Doctor,” he bade for the first time

 

I lay there with the horrible drug under my tongue, considering that, until blessed, soft and warm blackness was all I knew.


	5. Chapter 5

“I know you want to lie in bed all day, but you can’t,” the Master said, prodding me awake verbally. I felt his hand touch my forehead. “You don’t have a fever, at least,” he added. “Okay, rise and shine, Doctor.” He got an arm behind my shoulders and made me sit up. I had to grab him to keep from falling back into the sheets.

 _It’s barely sunrise_ , I protested. The birds were singing full force, though, and I smelled the pretty poisonous vine from a good, cool and damp breeze coming in through the balcony doors. The Master’s bracing arm felt like a pillar of strength and stability.

“Yes, but you have to eat.” The Master went to his closet and started going through it with vigor. To my surprise he pulled out my old clothes and started laying them on the bed. “You need them,” he said after seeing the look on my face. “I know how you are. Your personality imprints on the first thing you put on after regenerating. Right now, they’ll be the most comfortable clothes you can wear.” He got out my red Converse and made a face. “You’re so unique,” he murmured, not being entirely complimentary.

Woozy, I let myself be dressed. He threaded my arms through the brown t-shirt and popped the opening over my head. “You have the longest arms,” he commented. He then put my shirt on, but let it hang unbuttoned. When he leaned over to loosen the knot on the towel I’d slept in, our eyes met. “I know,” he said. “Pretty intimate stuff for me, too, but I don’t trust anyone else to look after you properly. This is the first time you’ve ever been part of a household I’ve created, and as such, I’m inclined to treat you like I would any good employee. Yet, you aren’t an employee.” He whipped the towel off and his eyes never flickered downward. “You’re the Doctor,” he said.

 _And, you’re the Master_ , I thought. I knew exactly what he meant. Our respective pursuits here on Seldatia kept us from interacting on a more personal level. Even sleeping beside each other wasn’t too much of an intimacy, especially in a bed this large and mostly littered with cats. Our minds were enough alike to make any socializing very easy now that he wasn’t trying to murder me and I wasn’t attempting to thwart one of his evil schemes. So, we’d allowed ourselves to grow more than a little comfortable with each other. It was easy, letting childhood closeness seep into our adult awareness.

The Master knelt to put my trousers on me. “I couldn’t find any underwear,” he muttered. “For shame, Doctor.”

I didn’t see the use in wearing pants under one’s trousers.

He helped me stand and cover myself, then fastened my bothersome fly button by button. I tried not to think about the intimacy of it and partially succeeded. I sat and let him put my socks and shoes on, feeling like a large, gangly doll. That feeling increased when the Master picked up my jar of eyeliner and the brush, and looked at me thoughtfully. “Forgo it?” He asked.

I shook my head. I was used to it now, and it served its purpose. It identified me as his property, and we’d need that little visual clue even more now that he had criminals to punish for my sake. I knew the rules here, having read them in order to enforce them. To go too much against what people expected was dangerous, and small things like the eye paint made bigger, important issues easier to accomplish.

The Master made a study of my facial structure before dipping in the brush and beginning. I had to look right at him, of course. Each stroke he put on made me feel more and more like his kept prize, and I wasn’t entirely averse to the feeling. That hand spread over my left jaw to keep me steady, felt very kind and careful. Warm. He was the perfect temperature, being my own race. And, I loved being touched.

“If only you were as honest with your mouth as well as your mind,” he murmured. “You’re projecting, Doctor.”

_I really don’t have the strength to keep my mind close. I’m sorry. You’ll be listening to me a lot for awhile, probably._

“Oh, I don’t mind,” he said, moving on to the other eye. “Your thoughts are extremely free-flowing. There aren’t many people with such order inside such chaos.” He paused in his work to meet my eyes again. “And, it’s entirely gratifying to know you don’t feel too bad about being my property. If I’d known you had a thing for that I’d have obliged you with it a long time ago.”

 _Keeping me collared and leashed,_ I said, smiling a little.

He smiled back and finished my paint. “You’re a tease,” he accused lightly. “The biggest one I know.” He had a look at my earring, and I shivered at feeling him twist it a little. “It would serve you right if I granted all your odd little fantasies.” He leaned closer, his face nearly against mine, our lips separated by centimeters. “But, you’d have to ask me very nicely,” he added, his voice soft enough to caress.

I swallowed hard. My thoughts scattered like ball bearings dropped on a tarmac. I felt my hearts begin to beat slowly, and my body got extremely heavy. His personal attention was quite something else.

The Master’s eyes dropped down, considering my face, especially my mouth. “Never really considered it until the festival of sex, but you do have a nice set of lips,” he admitted. “I’ll bet a lot of people have tried to kiss that lying mouth of yours.” He put his thumb up, pressing at the corner where my smile would show the best. “You don’t cooperate with kissing very much, if I know you, Doctor; it’s too intimate. And, you’re perfectly right to protest. Kissing is more intimate than fucking.”

I could agree with that. Kissing wasn’t about reproduction. It had no purposes other than getting close, showing affection, promoting lust. Our people had rarely indulged in it, unlike humans. I hadn’t even known how to kiss for a very long time.

“I didn’t either,” he told me, reaching for my tie. He pulled it under my shirt collar and let it hang while he buttoned my shirt. “Ailla taught me, the horrible little bitch. She probably picked it up from a human conquest.” He smiled bitterly and began expertly knotting my tie. “But, I had to improve on her technique. She tended to slobber a bit. Lucy, however, was an expert, but that was because she wanted to please me.”

I thought of seeing him kiss her. Over and over I’d seen that, and she gave every appearance of enjoying it immensely.

“I made sure to please her. It’s a method of control, after all. You keep your interests close by making them want your attention.” The Master drew my tie closed and started putting me in my jacket. “How embarrassing that I couldn’t ever stop doing that for you. I chased you all over the cosmos, and you barely looked my way until I was blowing something up.”

Deep shame settled into me. What he said was true. Once we parted ways and I saw he wouldn’t stop in his quest to rule the universe, I cut all but the most precious of ties to him. One was the tie of heritage, and the other the tie of hope. I kept those, and they were still all I had of him.

He took my face in his hands just as his robotic counterpart had done, and just looked into me. The weight of his judgment hung, loomed over me like the sword of Damocles.

“There you go,” he murmured. “Assuming so much guilt as if it will feed you somehow. Makes you feel better about being a god.”

_I’m not a god._

“Yes, you are,” he corrected softly. “Do you know why, dear Doctor, that you so stringently avoided having any sort of amiable contact with me, or why you refused to rule the universe at my side?” He waited only a moment for my answer, while I still formulated it, he went on. “Because you knew you were dangerous, and because you knew I was dangerous. Two dangerous things together… well… it just isn’t smart, is it?”

_I…_

“But, if we’re both less dangerous, the risk is smaller,” he said. “Smaller for us both and for everyone in our path.” He leaned down and put his lips on my forehead for a brief and hearts-breaking kiss. “I’m never going to be less dangerous, though. Neither are you. Still, we seem to make a good team, don’t we?”

 _We do_ , I admitted. _And, I’m very glad to see how much calmer you are, how you’ve regained your cohesion_.

The Master smiled at me and let go of my face, but he very lightly dragged his fingers down instead of just stepping free. “Of course you are. You’re the Doctor.” He got my elbow and helped me to stand. “Now, we’re going down to the kitchens, where I’m going to put you at a table in the middle of all the activity and you’re going to tell my cooks what you want to eat. You’ll order anything and everything that strikes your fancy.”

I held up a hand. _I can’t-._

“I’ll feed you,” he said with a grin.

 

**

 

The Master was good on his word. I got placed in the heart of three concentrically staggered kitchens, at a good, plain and sturdy table. He sat at the end and I sat on the side, putting the corner between us. “Start with the chocolate rum torte,” he told someone, and a huge slice of torte immediately appeared. “You’ll always eat sweets, and I figure milk, eggs and chocolate aren’t harmful to a recovering stomach.” He cut a piece off with the fork and held it up to my mouth.

Holy Rassilon.

Aware everyone covertly watched us, I led him feed me piece after piece of the splendid torte. My belly didn’t complain a bit at the rich food. It was so desperate by now I could have probably processed a diet of nails and razor blades.

The Master’s face dimmed with displeasure as he assessed that sub-thought. “Unforgivable that you would be starved as well as beaten,” he said, and I knew everyone listened. “Starvation is the lowest ploy of gaining control, the method of cowards.”

“My Lord Emperor,” Hann said, coming over to us and bowing. “May I make the lord adjudicator a special tea? It is an old remedy to soften the belly from the hardness of hunger.”

“You may,” the Master said. “Make a pot of white, first blush, too,” he added. He put his hand under my chin, masking his intention to hear my thoughts better while making a show of ownership. “What would you like next?” He asked in Gallifreyan.

 _Some sort of clear-ish, salty soup_ , I answered.

The Master ordered a scallion and onion based soup immediately. Hann returned with both sets of tea, proving she’d anticipated their order. The Master made me slowly drink all of Hann’s remedy before serving me the excellent, other tea. By that time the soup came, and he fed me that, too. It tasted heavenly, but I struggled to eat every spoonful.

 _I think I should wait a little while,_ I told him. _I’m full._

“All right. Back to bed with you, then,” he said, helping me to stand. “Hann,” he called out.

“Yes, my Lord Emperor?” The lead cook asked, appearing quickly.

“Send up a tray in five hours,” he instructed. “More tea and something nutritious he can drink. Make it chocolate flavored, too.” He led me out and toward the stairs.

About halfway to his rooms I lost my strength, failing to stand even with his help. _I’m sorry_ , I said. _Let me rest a moment_.

“No, you need a bed,” he argued, and again in Gallifreyan. To my shock, the Master simply bent and picked me up. “Don’t struggle,” he ordered, starting back up the stairs. “The more people that know I care about my consort, the easier and more natural my justice will seem. We’re never demonstrative in front of my subjects, because we aren’t really lovers, but they don’t know that. Public displays will have to come with more frequency now.”

Carrying me up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom didn’t seem to tax the Master in the slightest. He put me on the bed and took my shoes off. “Sleep,” he commanded, sticking a ball of the nasty medicine from Matreus under my tongue.

The drug made it impossible to disobey. I felt covers going over me, and it was the last thing I knew until the Master was waking me up for more tea and my meal replacement drink. He’d been right about my own clothes feeling comfortable to me, and the quietude of this planet helped as well. Not as quiet as a zero room, but nice just the same.

The Master examined the gel ice on my hands thoughtfully. “Another hour, probably,” he said, placing my hand carefully across my stomach before getting a cup of tea to my lips. “Your face looks loads better, too.”

 _My voice box still hurts a lot_ , I told him.

“Don’t strain to talk, then,” he advised sensibly, getting more tea in my belly. “Its dusk, and I expect you’ll feel a lot better by morning. Providing you sleep some more, that is,” he followed.

 _It’s been nice having so much of your attention_ , I admitted.

The Master met my eyes fully, then. His head tilted, and I saw him considering all the possible meanings in what I’d reported. Putting the tea down, he took up the nutritional drink and allowed me to sip it at my own speed. “That was remarkably open and honest of you,” he murmured.

 _I don’t have any excuse. I’m drugged_. I gave him a weak smile. It was true, though. Color and light had tracers, melting into one another, becoming each other, proving they were the same. Sound had dragging echoes, and I’d lost my sense of time. For a Time Lord, that’s usually frightening, but I wasn’t a bit scared. The Master would always know the moment, too, and he was right here with me.

The Master returned my smile. He helped me finish the drink and took the tray away. “Want my attention, do you?” He asked, walking to the other side of the bed. “I daresay. It’s one of your strengths that you know when you’re weak. I’m sure you understand what I mean by that.” He toed off his footwear and crawled under the covers with me. “You have a lot of perception and long vision; more than myself, I’m fairly certain.” Moving close, he coaxed my heavy body to lie alongside his, putting his arm under my head for a pillow. “Go back to sleep, Doctor.”

I obeyed with embarrassing alacrity, the side of my face tucked between his shoulder and pectoral. Breathing in his copal scent, listening to the quiet, and warm and relaxed, I went out like a light.

 

**

 

The next time I woke up, the gel ice was gone and I had both arms around the Master. This explained why I’d been sleeping so peacefully. Also, my face was against his neck, and I’d thrown a leg over him, probably to keep him exactly where I wanted. I’d feel ashamed for it all if I could muster the strength. Instead I felt content and rather free in my neediness. He apparently didn’t have any real issue with my enforced cuddling, or he’d have pushed me away.

I felt a hand stroking down my head, slow and careful and meant to soothe. I would have groaned if I’d had the ability. This was wonderful. I hadn’t had my hair petted in centuries, and he had an expert touch. Over and over he went from my crown to the base of my neck, never varying his pressure or speed. It lulled me completely.

 _If I’d known I could rule you like this, I might have tried it earlier_ , he said. _As it is, I might find it difficult to not get my way by resorting to it_.

 _And I might not struggle at all_ , I answered, the truth coming out of me in this unguarded moment.

 _A victory for me at last?_ He curled his fingers around the back of my neck and held me immobile. It was needless, but it reminded me of just who I was dealing with, here. The Master wasn’t one to surrender control, ever. _Indeed_ , he agreed, his grip neither slackening nor tightening. _I’m not one to surrender. However, I’m very inclined to bestow mercy upon those who recognize superior might and_ _ **don’t**_ _struggle_.

So, it had come to this at last? I couldn’t think so, not even with what he said. His core hadn’t altered, but he’d wrapped a lot of complicated layers around it, layers that seemed comprised of a renewed code, of a willingness to solve things without murder.

 _Your faith in me is very, very difficult to live up to_ , he confessed _. But, you’re right to think I’m changing, that I’ve already changed. I had to do it for myself, however, Doctor, not you_.

 _It isn’t that I want you to be like me, so don’t think that_ , I replied. _But, there’s a lot of beauty in you, and capacity for some version of benevolence. I’ve seen a lot of it lately_.

 _Benevolence has a lot of causes and definitions_ , he countered, and he resumed stroking my hair and head.

I half-dozed under that relentless petting, still drugged, still weak, still more than a little lost. It seemed incredible that I would be lying here with him. Even more, that I would be lying here with him and he wouldn’t be turning a screw to me. Really, he should be angry I got myself captured, that I’d maneuvered him into a political stickiness from nothing more than inattention.

“You’re a Time Lord, and worth more than the populace,” the Master said softly. “You allowed yourself to be hurt because you feel you deserve it. The guilt you carry over Gallifrey’s destruction is making you into even more of a masochist than you were previously. That’s what makes it easy for you to hand yourself over to me. You look at what I’ve done to you in the past and believe I’ll hurt you. You think you _need_ to be hurt.”

Oh, God, he was right.

“And, this is where my real victory over you comes, Doctor. I have no intention of hurting you.” He tightened his grip on me to prevent an escape, clumsy as I’d have proven in the attempt. “I could do it with skill and finesse to satisfy even your sense of self-recrimination, but I won’t. You don’t need punished at all. You need exactly what I need.”

 _And what’s that?_ I asked, feeling curious inside of absolute despondency.

“The company of the last Time Lord,” he answered.

 

**

 

I must have slept the night through, for when I awakened it was close to midmorning. The birds were winding down from a full symphony that I hadn’t heard from the beginning. The poisonous, sweet vine that grew ever-steadily up the palace wall radiated its intoxicating scent. The Master’s copal lingered, so I knew he hadn’t gone out. I stretched and found I didn’t have nearly the same amount of pain as the previous morning. My belly growled and I placed a hand over it.

I rolled onto my side to see the Master at his desk, drawing characters upon a long scroll with a super fine brush. His eyes flicked up to mine. “Good morning, Doctor,” he greeted, and there was a quality to his voice that seemed new. Not bad, but new. “Breakfast is on its way; I anticipated your return to consciousness at about this time.”

“How?” I asked, and winced at the pain and the quality of my words.

“Better give your voice another day,” he advised, continuing to write. “As to the ‘how’, you hardly ever sleep longer than five hours at a time. Even, apparently, when badly injured.”

“I’ve slept the night through here a couple of times,” I protested, using my voice anyway. At the increase of pain, I quit being stubborn. _Well, I have_ , I told him mentally. I looked down at myself and discovered I hadn’t a scrap on except for a sarong sort of garment. _What happened to my clothes?_

“They needed cleaned and pressed. They ought to return to you by the end of breakfast.” The Master scattered sand upon his scroll to dry the ink, and weighted it down with a few stones for that purpose. “You have time for a bath or shower. I suggest you do one or the other, as your dramatic eye paint is mostly all over the sheets and smeared down your face.”

 _How embarrassing._ I went into his bathroom and made short work of removing dried sweat from my body. With relish I cleaned my teeth and shaved my face. I still didn’t appear to be regrowing hair on the rest of my body, which distressed me.

The Master watched me reenter. He’d accepted my breakfast and was pouring tea. “Feel better?” He started applying my eye paint to me while I sat to eat.

 _I do. What did you mean by five hours? I know I’ve slept longer than that here_.

“You sleepwalk.” The Master carefully finished my left eye and went on to the right.

_You’re kidding!_

“I never joke about sleepwalking. It’s a dangerous pastime and more than a bit nerve wracking for the one following you.”

I groaned a little and made myself eat some toast. _Sorry. I thought I’d quit doing that_.

“It wouldn’t be so bad, but you’re apparently attracted to the lake,” the Master said, spooning flathberry jam onto what was left of my toast. Smooth as anything, he went back to painting my face. “One night you picked a bunch of blueberries before wading out to feed the rainbow koi. They ate most of your clothing. I had to sneak you back into the palace.” He grinned a little. “Actually, that was fun. Sort of like slipping one’s inebriated prom date past the parents.”

I winced and ate the delicious jam on toast and then moved onto the mushroom omelet. _Fasten an arm or leg to the bed and I ought to stay put,_ I advised. _That’s a security risk, my somnambulism_.

“You lost your TARDIS key in the lake last night,” he said calmly. “I have men out diving for it right now.” He snitched a crumble of my omelet and added, “Do you really want me to tie you to my bed?”

I realized two things. The bed was still his even though we both slept in it, probably because he was a territorial bastard. And, he was uncomfortable with restraining me because he thought he might like it too much. I felt my lips pulling back for a helpless smile. _Might be best_ , I told him. _As for the key, you can stop having people dive for it._

“Oh?” The Master eyed me intensely. “Have a spare on your person?”

For my answer I reached out a newly healed hand and snapped my fingers. The TARDIS opened for me.

The Master stared at the TARDIS a moment before rounding on me. “I’d love to do that with my own TARDIS,” he confessed. “Assuming I can ever get it back from that mechanical megalomaniac. Show me how you arranged that.”

_Like you noted, I’ve lived in my TARDIS for centuries. She just does what I want because she loves me and I love her._

“But, that’s direct communication,” the Master argued. “A TARDIS isn’t capable of that.”

 _Who told you that? Our people?_ I leveled an eyebrow at him. _Do you think those stuffy, closed-minded egoists considered for one moment that a TARDIS was capable of independent thoughts and desires? For that matter, did anyone ever adequately explain the dynamics of how a TARDIS is grown and made into the machines we use?_

Again the Master stared at me. He looked back at my TARDIS. Finally, he gave a small chuckle and shook his head. “Leave it to you,” he said. “You make good points, Doctor; I never considered any of it that way.”

 _It isn’t your fault_ , I told him. _We were never intended to spend so much time in a TARDIS. I’m probably the only Time Lord who’s ever logged so much relative time and maintenance in one, and I took an antique to start with._ I stroked my TARDIS’ exterior lovingly, enjoying the pulse of goodwill she returned immediately. _She’s a beautiful old girl,_ I praised. _So much class. So much willfulness. She hardly ever took me where I wanted to go, but she always took me where I needed to be. I love her_.

“It shows,” the Master replied, his face a study in solemnity. “For that matter, it shows through her, too.” He sat back down at his desk and took a glance at the archaic water clock in the corner. “Take an hour’s rest,” he bade. “I’m drawing up a few documents regarding internal law. After, you and I will pay a visit to the tower, and we’ll have a good, private rest overnight. Tomorrow morning we’ll come back I’ll tend to your captors.”

I stretched out on the bed, looking at the ceiling. _There’s nothing I can say or do to keep you from killing them_ , I said. _Is there?_

“No,” he answered flatly. “Even if I cared absolutely nothing for you, Doctor, I’d execute these Suri rebels for violating a Time Lord. They aren’t fit to wash your feet.” He took up his scroll, blew the dried sand off, and rolled it up for securing with a leather thong. “I’d eliminate them for the offense of harming **any** Time Lord, no matter how much I personally hated him; but, because it was you, the bleeding-wound Savior of the Universe, the man who would show mercy and goodness to the most vile of beings, the dissidents will die. And, you will not stand in my way.” He pinned me with his eyes, and I felt all the power and fury of a natural force. “If you defy me on this, Doctor, then our alliance is over, and I will take every measure to confine you in such a way that you cannot pit your will against mine ever again.”

I fell into those eyes of pine and honeyed pitch, tumbling over and over within myself. It hurt me, oh, it _cost_ me, but I levered up and went to his desk, standing a mere three feet from his electrified form. “As long as you understand I take no life for granted, then I can adapt to your primitive sense of law,” I told him, watching his gaze go molten with consideration. “As long as you recognize I’m not a natural killer, a man who can take life without consequence, then I can make the allowance that you are a predatory, ruthless animal of natural justice.”

The Master considered me with every due thought that a man would make regarding his own soul. The air between us became heavy, leaden with the power of honest impartiality. He wasn’t brushing me off, wasn’t disregarding what I said. He’d heard and weighed every word.

“They would have tortured anyone I took for a mate,” he said to me, his voice and eyes harmonizing. “They would have brutalized anyone that I took for enjoyment in any fashion; their deaths will mean peace, on some level, to everyone I rule, even you. So, you will sit back and let me enact the ruthless, animal justice that I am so good at enforcing, Doctor.”

I went back to his bed ( _ **his bed**_ ), and tried to get comfortable. I wasn’t easy in knowing that men would die because of me, and he knew it. Yet, I understood that he had to make a show of force in order to maintain control here, and that undermining him wasn’t wise, prudent, or useful. I went back to looking at the ceiling, seeing in the aged cracks and yellowing plaster that I was a simple thing that couldn’t abide or abet death. Death, which was the natural order of things as much as life, was my enemy. It made me sad and worse than pathetic that I couldn’t reconcile it.

 

**

 

The Master had the entire populous of the palace and the inner city gather in the center of all activity, the marketplace. He had a gallows erected there overnight, while I tortured myself with the reality of death. And now, he and I stood as all of the dissidents were herded toward their fate like cattle to slaughter. Hanging was new to this culture; no one had ever seen people deliberately strangled. I knew this from reading all the law books, and from Sigglis visiting me just before we left the palace.

The Master parted from me and walked slowly, deliberately to the place of moral and mortal justice. He had three men cloaked in black awaiting his orders, their eyeless hoods so grim to me and probably to everyone else. He did an abrupt, graceful about-face to address the throng of Seldatians that had gathered for the execution. Holding his arms wide, he waited for silence. He didn’t have to wait more than three seconds.

“Citizens of Seldatia,” he said, his voice like a drug, carrying to every corner of the crowd effortlessly. “Four days ago my consort was taken from me by rebels that thought our women should never be educated or treated with the common respect of all life here on Seldatia.” He lowered his arms and cast his gaze out upon the crowd, waiting for anyone to speak. No one did.

“I ask you, is instruction denied because of gender?” The Master walked along the gallows platform, his hands behind his back and his head bowed. “Is the truly learned man so threatened by a female with thoughts and opinions that he must subjugate her with force, violence, and treason?” He did a little spin to once again look out upon the crowd. “Is education, the keystone of Seldatia, only for one half of our populace?”

The Master waited while the people murmured, stayed calm and motionless as his questions rippled through the multitude of people.

“To deny education to one half is to deny it to all,” an unknown man shouted. “If we are all dedicated to learning, can we not be taught from the ones who carry and rear our young?”

A cry of approval lifted up, carried by so many that the gathered people became one voice. I felt a little swell of appreciation and approval. These people had only given up their chauvinistic attitudes toward education a short time ago, but they were already fully on board for the change that the Master had wrought.

“Yes, exactly,” the Master said, his approval wafting out over the mob like hot sugar. “Yet, these men took my mate,” he stressed, pointing to the ones awaiting judgment, “with the idea that they could hold him and make me enforce ignorance, misogyny, bias and bigotry.”

“Let the Earth take them!” Someone shouted. Their cries were taken up by others quickly, until the entire gathering was indignant.

The Master held up a hand, silencing everyone. “Yes, I agree,” he assured, once again looking out upon the horde. “Yet, my mate, whose name is The Doctor, is full of the benevolence I cherish in each and every one of you. He would not see a single one of his tormentors killed even though he has yet to regain his voice, and his spirit is diminished by the torment they put him through in the name of outdated beliefs.”

The throng began murmuring excitedly, posing the mindset and motivation of each and every person awaiting judgment.

“They keep us in the dark,” a man shouted.

“They want us to remain ignorant,” someone else said.

“Mercy is for those who show mercy!”

The Master waited patiently while the people debated amongst themselves, his very being projecting a willingness to take the decree of all those assembled. He came back to me and took me by the arm after a long ten minutes, pushing me forward so that everyone could get a good look at my injuries.

“My consort,” he announced. “He cannot speak to you on behalf of those who hurt him, but he would. He cherishes all life. It is what makes him who he is, what he wishes us all to be.” The Master threaded his fingers with mine and pulled me closer until we were smack against each other, side to side. “He is kind and generous, and I measure my ability to rule by his compassion.”

Again the people began hot and heavy discussion between themselves, and again the Master merely awaited a response, his face like stone.

“If the rebels can be rehabilitated,” someone shouted, “then, let them!”

“We don’t want death merely for the sake of death!”

The Master, giving every appearance of listening seriously, nodded. “The ones who would learn, need a place,” he informed. “I cannot keep them in the palace, because my consort is precious, and because I don’t believe in sincerity until it is proven.”

Once again the gathered people talked quickly. They were an animated bunch, and determined to see justice, but not especially for justice to mean death, and it gave me hope. A man came forth and lifted his arm so that the Master would see him. “Put the dissidents to hard labor,” he declared. “But, my emperor, your people believe Suri should die.”

I held my breath.

The Master nodded. “Very well. Let it not be said that Seldatian people are bloodthirsty.” He motioned to the prisoners. “Take off their blindfolds so that they may see their leader’s fate.”

“I would do it all again,” Suri shouted as he was made to climb the gallows stairs.

“Wait,” the Master called out to his hooded executioners. “Where is Raenna? Where is the woman who was mistreated?”

“I am here, My Lord Emperor,” Raenna said, coming from the group we’d traveled with from the palace.

“Come up here, Raenna,” the Master said.

The young woman, who still showed the effects of her ill use, came to stand before the Master, fear in her eyes. The Master put his hand on her shoulder, turning her so that the people could see her. “Tell your people what they did to you.”

Raenna made a fist. “They raped me,” she said. “Over and over and over, they raped me. They beat me. When I would grow gravid with their seeds, they would beat me to kill the baby. I have lost four children.” Her voice, naturally low, carried over the populace effortlessly, because no one spoke or moved. The shock in the eyes of the mob told me that the Master would have his blood. “The physician, Matreus, says that I might never have children now,” she added, and a sob left her lips. “Because of them, I might never give a husband a son. They have tried to make me worthless.” She straightened, and though I couldn’t see her face, I knew she was crying. “But Matreus has taken me for an apprentice. I may help others who have been harmed.”

The Master guided Raenna back to Matreus, who put her in his arms with kindness I’d expect from a grieving father. “Is hard labor enough?” He asked the people simply.

A cry for death rose up from the throng. It carried from every set of lips assembled. The Master put his hands behind his back and nodded to his executioners. “The people have spoken,” he said.

 

**

 

Watching the hanging of these people made me quite, quite sick. I had to watch, too, so that I wouldn’t undermine the Master’s campaign for justice. Still, every time the lever was pulled and a body jerked or a neck snapped, I felt bile in my throat. Raenna, though, she watched every man die with the same expression; relief. I understood why, too. To her, every death meant no more rape. I couldn’t fault her for her feelings. I had time to put myself in her place, and I miserably concluded that there wasn’t anything else for these men but death.

“It’ll never get any easier for you,” the Master said quietly in Gallifreyan. “But, thank you for allowing my justice.”

 _I understand it, but I can’t enjoy it_ , I told him.

He put his hand out and took mine, and I shivered at the feel of his strong, warm palm and fingers. _You don’t have to enjoy it_ , he answered. _Even I am not particularly enjoying this. There’s nothing rewarding in this for my so-called predatory soul, Doctor_. He gave me a slight squeeze, and it gave me a bracing feeling. _What_ _ **would**_ _have satisfied me is if I’d personally slit their throats the moment I found you. It took all my willpower to stop myself. It took even more to house them underneath us in the dungeons when I was tending to your injuries_. He took a foil wrapped ball from his pocket and peeled it without letting go of me. It proved to be the narcotic medicine. He held it up and I allowed him to put it under my tongue.

 _Your people are watching_ , I said. Indeed, they were observing the hanging with grim determination, but also the Master and me.

 _They don’t envy my position, but they do envy me for my consort_ , the Master told me, warm amusement in his mental tone. _I suppose you’ve figured out a person of your coloring and stature is considered ideal here?_

 _It was brought to my attention_ , I admitted. I had to close my eyes briefly against the sight of a man who didn’t immediately die. When I opened them again, he was still jerking.

 _Hm,_ the Master mused. _A neck any Time Lord would have coveted,_ he commented about the condemned. _Still, my subjects expect justice, not torture._ He took the rifle from a guard, brought it up and shot the man dead. Casually, he handed the weapon back.\

 _It’s so easy for you_ , I said. _Why?_

 _I’m Death’s Agent, Doctor, and I have been since we were children_ , he answered, taking my hand again. _You are Time’s champion, and I am Death’s._ _Time is a killer, of course. And, we are known to kill Time ourselves_.

Philosophy during public execution was a bit much for me.

 _Only two more to go, Doctor, and we can leave,_ the Master promised. _You’ve done very well. I do understand what sort of creature you are, and I do know this is very hard for you to endure_. Again he squeezed my hand. _I’m not without sympathy. Granted, I could never reach your level of pathos, but I do have a grain or two of comprehension for your suffering_.

 _But, you_ _ **have**_ _hurt me in the past_ , I argued.

 _You always hurt the ones you love. That’s what your precious humans say. Actually, they have quite a few good sayings. They aren’t without interest._ The Master, sensing my shock at what he said, gave a small mental chuckle and caressed the inside of my palm with one finger. Just a stroke, but one that sent all my nerve endings jangling. _Don’t pretend,_ he admonished. _You love_ _ **me**_ _, don’t you? It’s what stayed your hand from completely obliterating me time and time again while I was acting like a proper Time Lord tool_.

 _There’s a lot of different sorts of love, just like benevolence_ , I answered as we turned from the proceedings and made our way down the dais. _If you love me, be prepared to give a few definitions, Master_.

 _Oh really_ , he replied with an audible scoffing sound. _If I love you, is it really any of your business?_

_I would think so!_

_That’s because you’re a nosy-parker_ , he parried. _You couldn’t mind your own business if forced._ Still holding my hand, he made me enter the covered cart and gave orders to our driver to return to the palace.

 

**

 

I managed to get my mental walls up by evening, and as I sat on the Master’s balcony, feeling all my internal hurts going into final repair, I contemplated what it means to love someone.

Pain.

Joy.

Belonging.

Fear of loss.

Purpose.

The Master sat on the balcony rail with one foot up and the other dangling down. It was more than precarious, but I knew better than to point it out. He held his saucer and cup like the elegant thing he was, watching the sunset and me by turns. I still wasn’t used to getting this much eye contact from him.

“You’re worrying about nothing,” he said. “And no, I can’t hear your head anymore, but its plain you’re thinking about the nature of love.”

I sighed and tended to my own tea. He always saw too much without ever seeing anything at all. It didn’t frighten me that I loved him, only that he might love me back, in _any_ respect. I’d had years to contemplate basic compatibility, the attraction of two people so alike and so different that they can’t help running into each other. We were magnets, flipping to change our facing polarity upon whimsy. I couldn’t imagine him capable of loving me and trying to kill me at the same time. It was sick.

“Rarely did I resort to trying to actually end your life,” the Master said, jolting my head up.

I checked my shield and found it intact. The Master was simply able to read my face well enough to know what I was thinking. Since my personality quirks and tells changed with every body, that was impressive. But then, _he_ was impressive.

“Now you’re getting depressed because you think we’re in two different sorts of love, and upset I can still see what you’re thinking.” He set his saucer down and laced his fingers around the knee he had propping up for balance. “Look, Doctor; I’m not the only one who can read a face. You’re very good at it yourself. Besides, it’s always _you_ in there, in those different bodies.”

The Master slid off the banister gracefully, coming over to stand before me. He sank onto his haunches before me, a curious and fond sort of smile on his lips as he met my eyes. “It’s like going from oranges to holy relics,” he said. “You used to be an orange. Now, you’re a holy relic.”

I so totally didn’t know what he meant. In fact, I was so lost I just sat there with my mind whirling. What love had to do with oranges and holy relics, I didn’t know. But… But, one can love oranges and devour them. The love of a holy relic means a museum or private collection, careful handling and private viewing.

Ah.

“There, that wasn’t hard, was it?” He asked.

Quite suddenly, I felt afraid of him. I hadn’t felt this afraid of him in centuries.

The Master pulled in a long, slow breath. “Oh, you _have_ to tell me what you just thought about,” he said, extending his finger in an invitation for me to touch. He wanted to hear my head. “Your eyes haven’t looked at me like that since you were blond.”

I obliged him and touched our fingers together. _I won’t be cataloged and stuffed into a display_ , I told him.

 _Don’t be ridiculous_ , he said back, his eyes sparkling with amusement. _You and I are our own museum_.

I started to lose my patience. Always the cat and mouse with him. _What, then?_ I asked shortly.

He gave me a look that suggested I wasn’t thinking properly. Suddenly, his eyebrows lifted. _It isn’t dangerous, I promise._ _Consider it awhile_. He took his finger away from mine slowly. “I’m finishing my tea and going to bed. Tomorrow we have a little trip ahead of us. I promised Matreus I’d send some people to collect Black Lotus flowers, but I’m considering going myself, without a contingent, I might add. The more people that travel with me to the wilder areas, the more notice is taken, and I don’t want us noticed. It’s private land, but you know how squatters are.” He drained his cup and walked past me into the bedroom. “Good night, Doctor,” he bade, letting me know he didn’t expect I would join him soon.

I sat there long enough to see the stars come out, then went after him. As always, when he slept he looked positively angelic.

 

**

 

“I **hate** these things,” the Master said after the fifth time we narrowly avoided smacking ourselves upon low hanging branches. Our steed wasn’t very steerable, though I could tell the Master had the skill down as far as anyone could take it. “Take me to Earth and I’ll get some horses. These things can go back to the wild.”

I had my arms around him, so communication was easy. _Adding horse theft to your list_ _of crimes_ , I chided.

“I don’t have to steal them. It’s just more fun to steal.” The Master maneuvered our slippery mount around a large stone. “Thank Rassilon we only have another mile to go.”

 _We’re in some very deep wilds_ , I commented. I was having a little trouble with the forest. It was stupid of me to associate the forest with what had happened to me, but I had a lot of blurry, vague memories dealing with this sort of light and a lot of pain. The canopy overhead I simply could not bring myself to look at.

In just a few moments I could peer past the Master’s shoulder, and I knew the place just ahead had to be our destination. A small clearing of silvery grey and gunmetal gray grass had patterns of pumpkin orange flowers, small, deep purple ones, and tiny little white ones. Beyond that was about a ten foot waterfall and its stream wove around the clearing, making a circle of it before dropping off into some unknown cavern. Hundreds of multicolored, fluttering insects went from blossom to blossom. In the middle of the graceful grasses and flowers was a stone altar with a slight depression in the top center. The glade had a rustic little fence almost all the way around it, but not even high enough to keep anything but a Dachshund out.

The Master halted our steed and held her so I could slide off. He tethered the animal underneath a large tree within easy reach of the water and in high, munchable grass. “This is their first known worship site to the elements,” he said. “It’s the only place the Black Lotus grows, supposedly. Try to step lightly.” He took off his sandals and tucked them in the pack he’d brought, then removed the bag from our mount.

I took my shoes off, too, and we walked for the only break in the woven stick circle. “The old emperor and the one before him refused to come here,” the Master said, sliding a short wooden rod from his bag. It had characters carved on it, but I saw one in our own language, the one for his title. The wood had been highly polished and caught the diffused light well. “There’s some sort of superstition about being the last name on the fence.”

Every single stick in this fence had an emperor’s name on it. We realized that at the same time, though it should have been obvious. After a moment of staring at each other, the Master and I squatted to look at the base of the primitive structure. “They’re decaying very slowly,” he observed at the same time I saw splintery, powder shards of wood at ground level and apparently a little below.

 _This has been completed once before_ , I replied, pointing. _But a long, long time ago_. I picked up a splinter and licked it. _Seven centuries, eight?_

Grimacing, the Master touched the tip of his tongue to a small piece of ancient wood, too. “Seven and a half,” he concluded. “That’s a very slow rate of decay for wood, isn’t it?” He stood and had a look around. “Water, Air, Earth, and Wood. We might be meant to build a fire in that altar. That only leaves Spirit. Maybe that’s what we have to offer.”

 _You intend to actually worship?_ I asked, surprised.

“I have a love for ceremony, as you well know.” The Master pushed his stick into the weave of the fence, completing it behind us. “Besides, in learning what my people respect, I become a better ruler.”

 _You’re so cunning_ , I remarked, following him toward the stream. _So, build a fire already._

“Not until the sun moves behind the trees,” he said, putting down the pack at the edge of the stream. “Feel free to wander about in here. I’m going to relax awhile.”

I took his advice, enjoying the opportunity to be outside on an interesting world with an interesting companion. I walked the stream’s edge, staring down into very deep, crystalline water. I stuck my finger in it. Cold, but not too cold for me. I cast a glance in the Master’s direction just in time to see him get absolutely naked.

Really, perfect in miniature wasn’t a good description of him. He was lean and of squared off, strong shoulders. He had a flat little stomach and narrow waist. I watched his muscles flexing as he got on a rock that bordered the stream to stretch out on his stomach. He was tan and beautiful, and I felt a little twinge of something go through me.

I shucked my clothes, dropped everything in a pile, and dove into the water before I could talk myself out of it. I didn’t have the voice to shriek when I surfaced, but my mental one made the Master’s head twist in my direction very swiftly. I could see his grin from way over here. He relaxed back down and I made serious play out of the water.

Nearly an hour passed by while I frolicked. Eventually I swam over to tread water by the Master’s rock. The sun beat down on him, and he looked asleep. _Likening you to a_ _reptile seems apt at this point_ , I said. He’d flipped over on his back while I swam around, and his arm hung down on this side. _Better than sunning yourself on a human?_

I gave his arm a small yank, and he woke up startled, rolling right off his rock and into the water practically on top of me.

The explosion of water, the Master, and myself sent waves everywhere. I suddenly found myself encased in arms and legs, the Master holding onto me in a death grip. His eyes wild, he stared at me in unmistakable terror.

He was hydrophobic, and I’d inadvertently submitted him to his phobia.

Carefully, I put my hands on his waist, but I didn’t attempt to pull free, just stood there and waited for him to get his bearings and calm down. We were right at the shoreline; all he had to do was move an arm out, grab onto the embankment, and haul himself free. He could have done that when he fell in, but he’d gone for me instead. I was somehow safer than solid ground. The compliment of that resonated in me. _You’re fine_ , I told him. _It’s okay_. Something about this seemed terribly familiar, but I couldn’t think of a time in our past that we’d had a swim together.

The Master’s breathing began to gain some steadiness. He loosened his arms to pull away just enough to look me face to face. “If your eyes were blue,” he said mysteriously.

 _My eyes haven’t been true blue in centuries_ , I said.

The Master gave a harsh little laugh and went back to clutching at me. “Get me back on Terra Firma,” he ordered.

 _Will Firma Seldatia do?_ I waded with him the two steps to the embankment and hoisted him up on it to sit with his legs dangling over. He seemed mostly all right now, even with his feet and ankles in the water. _I didn’t mean to roll you into the water, sorry._

“No big deal,” he replied, but it was obviously quite the opposite.

 _You don’t react like this in your bathtub, and it’s nearly chest high in the middle_.

Again the Master laughed, just as harsh this second time. “Your lack of ceremony and attention to gods is so convenient,” he said. He got up and started getting dressed, his movements jerky and agitated. “Forget it. My fear of water is nothing.”

I swam back down to my own pile of clothes, got out and made short work of dressing. Even though I’d been quick, he’d been quicker. When I reached him he was sitting on his rock again and staring balefully at the stream. _You know I can’t just forget it. It doesn’t make any sense that you’d react so badly to a small stream when your tub is equally able to drown you. Also, you weren’t a bit nervous when I rowed you across that big lake. And, you’ve apparently at least waded into that same lake to retrieve my sleepwalking self, so what’s going on with you?_

He turned his head up to glare at me. “I said to forget it,” he stressed, showing me his teeth.

 _It’s just the two of us out here, Master. You don’t have to be the emperor right now. I want to help you._ I sat on the ground beside his rock and looked up at him. _Hydrophobia is pretty common across the universe, you know. A lot of people fear drowning_.

The Master put his head in his hands a moment before lurching to his feet like a newly animated marionette. “You can’t help me. I forbid it.” He took a box from the pack he’d brought, and a knife. “If you want to do something, aid me in collecting the Black Lotus for Matreus.” He pointed to the rocky area around the waterfall, and I saw huge, black and silver blossoms growing in crevices there. He gave me the knife, then. “Pry them up from the ground and let them fall into the collections box. Don’t actually touch the flowers or you’ll contaminate them.”

Hurt that he wouldn’t allow me to do more for his problem, I nevertheless obeyed. In an hour we had the box full. The Master and I went back to the very center of the glade, and he wordlessly reached into my inside jacket pocket, retrieving my screwdriver. He put a fuel pellet on the pillar altar and used the sonic to light it, then handed back my property.

We hadn’t taken two steps away before we witnessed a phenomenon. All around us, columns of elemental force lifted up from the ground. The earth became a spire of rock, and water rushed from the stream to form a rippling, moving cylinder. The fire soared upward to form a column, and air collected like a whirlwind to do the same. We stood in the middle of them all, silent and amazed. In seconds the tall pillars of elemental powers sank back to nothing, and we stared at each other in the dawning quiet.

“Well,” the Master said. “That was interesting.”

 

**


	6. Chapter 6

It took me two days of careful observation, but I finally saw a hint that the events of the wild worship site had an effect upon the Master. I’d been looking for signs of health changes, but there were none. However, when the Master walked into a room, all the candles and lamps flickered. At first I thought it was due to the breeze any living thing will stir up, but even the faraway light sources would shudder and dance as if trying to get his attention. And, he didn’t notice. His mind was so much on the city’s improvements that he barely thought to even eat. His only concessions to having a physical form were sleeping and bathing.

I wondered why I hadn’t exhibited any changes. I’d been there with him. Could the elemental powers only be keyed to the emperor, the man who brought the ceremonial piece to the fence? Or, perhaps the act of lighting the fire on the altar had changed him in some way? I wanted to set my TARDIS scanners on him, but he wouldn’t stay in his bedroom long enough for me to do that.

The Master was so busy, and I had little else to do but manage the household, read Water for Love, and interact with the delightfully direct Alair. We went out to the lake to feed the fish, and she was overjoyed to get a chance to even see the famed rainbow koi. We had a sack of different things to feed them, thinking to find their favorite.

“They won’t eat us,” she said, “but look at their teeth!” She leaned over for a better look, and I automatically let a hand hover over her in case she fell in. “It’s illegal to kill them, you know. I’m glad, because they’re so pretty.”

“There are a lot of pretty things that are dangerous,” I cautioned. It felt good to speak with my own voice again, but for some reason I wasn’t so intent on letting my mouth run anymore. “Your emperor is one of them.”

“Oh, I know,” she said dismissively, putting her bottom securely in the boat once more. “He’s Fire. He can warm you, protect you, make the food taste better, but he can also burn you.”

How very apt.

“But you’re like him,” Alair went on, digging around in the bag for the stale bread. She threw some out and clapped her hands as the fish made a spectacle of themselves trying to get it. “But, you’re Water, instead; giving life, making things grow; changing to fit the vessel that you’re poured in, but also a raging flood that wipes out everything in its path.”

Disquieted by the philosophical perception of such a young child, I bit my lip and tried not to stare at her. “Water, huh?”

“Yes, Water.” Alair tried the raspberries next, and the fish went absolutely wild. “Oh, they like these a lot!”

I sat up straight as I realized that fire had always been my worst fear, and that the Master was afraid of water. My God, the poetry in that… The implications staggered me.

“You should be able to do things to Water,” Alair went on. “Just as the pretty emperor makes the candles and lamps flare up.” She smiled over at me. “Go ahead, try something!”

I wondered if Matreus hadn’t known what would happen when the Master and I went to the glade, and that he’d sent him to get the Black Lotus on purpose. Then, I wondered if Alair hadn’t picked up on that, because she was a very quick study. But, Alair also believed in magic. I didn’t want to disappoint her, but I feared I would in this instance. Hoping she wouldn’t be too unhappy with my lack of water magic, I stretched out a hand and thought about making the water raise up in a column, like I’d seen in the glade.

To my utter shock, the water did exactly what I wanted. It spiraled up and up, reaching a massive height before I thought about making it stop. It surged back down and sent a wave over us both, rocking the boat. Alair laughed and laughed, clapping her hands for me just as she had for the fish. “Told you!” She crowed. “Now you have to show your husband he can do that with fire, show him his magic!” She dumped the rest of the food into the water, and the fish obligingly came up to eat.

As we rowed back, Alair sang songs and gave every appearance of complete happiness. I, however, was awash with awe and worry. The power of fire in the Master’s hands might not be a safe thing. Then again, he had plenty of power here on Seldatia already, and I’d yet to see him abuse it. He really seemed to be trying to prove his better nature, to himself, to me, to our dead and gone people.

“You worry too much, pretty Doctor,” Alair said as she clambered from the boat to the dock. “And your eyes are still sad.”

I climbed out after her and tied off the boat to keep it from drifting. “I know,” I admitted. “I’m very old, Alair, and I’ve seen a lot to make me sad and worried.”

She put her hands on her hips and gave me a fierce look that lost nothing to her age. “My daddy always said that worrying didn’t make you any taller, and he must have been right because he was very smart. You’re tall enough anyway.”

I couldn’t help laughing. I scooped her up and put her on my shoulder. “Well, you’re taller than me, now. How does it feel?”

“Great,” she announced. “Take me to the fruit trees so I can make use of being tall.”

I let her pick some fruit, listened to her sing her entire repertoire of songs twice, then delivered her to Matreus. As she hurried off to show Raenna her loot, the old physician gave me a keen look and bade me to sit. I did so, wondering what I was about to hear.

“Alair is of special blood, so don’t feel bad she showed you yourself,” he said, sitting opposite me in a well worn work chair. “She’s especially attuned to Water, too. That her parents died in it is a bit of irony that isn’t lost on me. I figure they only existed to bring her into the world, and that they died early to go on and reincarnate for other duties to this planet.” He picked up a pipe, lit it, and took a few good drags.

“You knew what would happen if we went to the glade,” I said.

“Yes, I did. History showed that the previous two emperors were too cowardly to take the gifts of the elements.” Matreus smiled a little and reapplied flame to his pipe. “The new emperor is as far from cowardly as they come. I can see he once struggled with a certain type of cowardice, but not any longer. He’s been very brave since his arrival.”

“You’ve put a dangerous man in a position to take a lot of power for himself,” I said.

“He always would have taken power. I’ve merely guided him into a basic way of it, My Lord Adjudicator. As your own power is the opposite of his, and you feel responsible for him anyway, how have I changed things for better or worse?” Matreus shrugged and smiled again. “If you want him to use his alignment with fire properly, then do the right thing and stay with him. I’m no fool; the two of you aren’t permanent additions to Seldatia. Eventually you’ll leave, and together.”

I sat and looked at the old physician a long time. He was reminiscent of the old hermit that lived behind my father’s farm, actually. Cryptic yet direct, full of knowledge but always learning more. “You remind me of K’anpo Rimpoche,” I said, just to hear what he’d say.

Matreus grinned. “Another old busybody?”

I smiled back. “You could say that.”

 

**

 

When the Master wearily dragged himself into his bedroom, he didn’t even pause to take off his outer robe. He flopped face down on the bed and gave a groan. “These stubborn old coots,” he complained. “Now they’re debating endlessly over whether or not to position the medical centers near the schools. Half of them think the children need the close proximity more, and the other half is divided between inner city and the dwellings of the elderly.”

“Rough day,” I commiserated. “I’ve had a bit of frustration myself.”

Really?” The Master rolled onto his side to look at me. “What happened to you?”

I got the bowl I’d taken from the kitchen and beckoned him to follow me into the bathroom. He lifted an eyebrow but obligingly hauled himself upright and followed me in. I plugged the sink and started running water. When the sink had enough water in it, I shut off the tap and set the bowl on the edge. As he watched, attentive, I made the water arc upward and flow into the bowl.

“What? How’d you do that?” The Master looked up at me with surprise and curiosity written all over his handsome face.

“I’m not finished.” I took his hand and made him go back into the bedroom. He let me position him in front of a candle. “Put out your hand and make that flame go higher,” I ordered.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” The Master twisted around to give me a dubious frown.

I used both hands to turn his face back in the proper direction. “Do it,” I prompted again. “Just think about it.”

The Master sighed and pointed at the flame. It leaped up as if starved for his focus, becoming a massive pillar of fire that threatened to burn the ceiling. He gave a little yelp and dropped his hand, prompting the flame to die back down into a now mostly melted candle. “What the hell?” He breathed.

“You’re attuned to fire, and I’m attuned to water,” I said. “Something we did in the glade caused it, but answers are not forthcoming.” I sat down at his desk and looked at him, watching his face turn from one emotion to the next with rapidity. “Matreus says that you also have a bit of air affinity, and that I have a bit of earth, but our dominant ones are water and fire.”

The Master looked up at the scorched ceiling a moment, still frowning. “Wood and spirit?”

“I think they follow earth and air, but how can I be sure?”

“Right.” The Master perched on the edge of the desk and folded his arms. “Well, good party tricks, but what’s their use?” He asked, surprising me.

“I suppose you could make a grand show,” I suggested.

He waved a hand impatiently. “I always make a grand show,” he argued shortly.

 

_Haddon took a lot of pleasure in the beauty of his lover, in how others would stop and stare at him. He wished he could partake of that beauty up close, though._

 

“What?” The Master eyed me quickly. “Who is Haddon?”

“I was reading Water for Love just before you came home,” I explained. “One of the Original Tales. They’re element based stories, and I thought I could find a clue in them.”

“Good thinking,” he praised easily. “Those stories have been around since they developed writing.” He slid off the desk and hovered in one place a moment before going for his closet. “You haven’t been consistent in keeping your mind closed off from me. Why?”

“You observed I was more truthful with my mind than my lips. I’m attempting to base our alliance on mutual trust, though God knows it’s a difficult undertaking.

“For you, not for me,” the Master corrected. “You’ve always been the trustworthy one during an alliance, except for the treachery you unloosed upon me on Gallifrey, at the academy.” He held up his hand to cut me off before I could defend myself. “Yes, I know. I led a revolt that got me labeled as a renegade. You were trying to stop harm to innocent lives.”

“Why bring it up, then?” I asked, irritated.

“Because, my dear, regardless of your motives and my own, you were still a traitor to me. It set the mood.” The Master chose a long, black svond and threw it on the bed. “I’m not still wounded over it, so my only problem is trying to stop a habit in how I treat you. It isn’t as difficult as I thought it would be, but every now and then I get an _urge_.” He turned his head around and grinned back at me.

That charismatic, evil grin made my hearts beat out of rhythm. “You seem to be channeling your _urges_ quite well,” I said, “or at least, suppressing them."

“Work, duty, ambition and the pleasure of your constant company,” he explained lightly, but I knew he meant what he said. “You aren’t exactly an angel on the shoulder, but a sort of conscience that doesn’t nag too loudly, only when matters are important.” He paused, tilted his head at the ceiling and breathed out through his nose. “I’m completely aware you’re ‘managing’ me, but you don’t make it pushy and abhorrent. I think that’s because you’ve discovered some value in me. Or rediscovered. Or want to discover?”

Speechless, I watched him scoop up his clothing choices and go into the bathroom.

I didn’t nag too loudly?

Managing him?

Traitor…

I waited until I heard the water going full blast, and the sound of the Master periodically interrupting the flow, then concentrated on turning the shower ice cold. He gave a shriek that satisfied me to my soul. Grinning, I went back to Water for Love.

 

**

 

We’d both woken up grumpy and out of sorts, probably because the ever-blooming Nuealnath gave us frustration dreams and an unpleasant, teeth grinding sort of jangly and unfocused lust. I knew we shared it because when I’d thought about it, he’d concurred. Equal ground, again. We weren’t expected out of the palace today because it was a day of rest attributed to an old tradition of the Mated Pair, the constellation the Master had pointed out to me.

“Doing nothing is repugnant to me and I won’t comply,” he said as he put on his sandals.

“Bitch, bitch, bitch,” I muttered. I couldn’t find my left shoe. How could I perpetually be losing these red shoes? Red. Shoes. The Master owned nothing red. For a man who loved to shed human blood, he didn’t seem particularly enamored of a red theme in anything, not clothes or wall hangings or carpets or décor. “You _couldn’t_ comply; you could never _not_ be doing something. Your problem is you usually fill in the periods of inactivity with schemes and the maintenance of eight different plots. You have plots within plots.” I crawled into his closet and started tossing things out impatiently, determined my shoe had to be in there. I’d looked everywhere else. “And, now that you’re attempting some semblance of sanity and conscience, you can’t use the evil plots to fill in the time anymore.”

“You are so fucking redundant,” the Master said, his voice grating with offense. “Look at all the time references you used; _never, usually, periods, now and time-filling_. Can’t you oblige me with Gallifreyan instead of the disease that is English? You only use Gallifreyan for the sake of privacy.”

“Gallifreyan is even worse than English. I think English is elegant.” I found my other shoe and crawled back out.

“Put my footwear back, in order, grouped by purpose and sturdiness,” the Master said, looking down at me with his arms folded. Sternly, even. “This is why we weren’t roommates at the academy, why you got old Chlorrisulfandrinel instead of me. You’re untidy, disorganized, and tend to be disgusting.”

“We weren’t roommates because we were _assigned_ our live-ins by the Prydonian Domestic Affairs Unit,” I corrected. “The _same_ unit who had to hand your roommate over to the Psychiatric Evaluations and Rehabilitations Committee, after you _gaslighted_ him into a jibbering wreck.” I stared lining his shoes up according to color instead of what he wanted, hearing him grinding his teeth. “Lighten up, Master; sometimes it’s good to be impulsive in a non-violent way.”

“You want impulsive?” He asked, and he suddenly was upon me in the mess of his shoes. “How’s this for impulsive, Doctor?” He grabbed my collar and hauled me close to his face, straddling my waist to pin me at the same time. I had a spare thought to the hard strength of his thighs, and then his mouth covered mine.

A new addiction hit me instantaneously. His lips were fire, pure fire, pouring life into me and consuming me in one breath. All thought of struggle burned up, too, leaving me feeling like molten taffy, like I had when we were locked away at the fertility festival. I met his demanding mouth, spurred to get more, _having_ to get more of him. Too much could never be enough.

The Master groaned. It was surprise and approval, and the beauty of his voice like that made my groin give a mighty wrench. His dark copal scent unfurled over me, coating me in the heady need to give in, give up, let the man have me. I shook all over now, but I couldn’t stop tangling our tongues, couldn’t stop tasting him.

He followed my collapse to the bottom of the closet, holding me close even though I already clutched at him. The soft, gentle bites to my bottom lip made me whimper, but when he sucked that swollen lip into his mouth I thought I’d come on the spot. _Master!_

 _Oh, Christ, Doctor_ , the Master answered. He held me tight enough to bruise. “Stop,” he whispered, laying our opposing temples together and breathing every bit as hard as I was.

Just that little bit of caution pressed at my danger sense. I was able to quit holding him like my life depended on it. I felt thankful of his willpower, then, but also horribly empty. For a few seconds it was if everything I ever wanted was coming to pass, falling into my possession, pouring into me like water to a dying man. The Master gave a little shake, and a dam burst inside me. I tried to ball up, the loss was so bad.

“Get up, get up,” he urged, not unkindly, and dragged me from his wardrobe. “Open your TARDIS, Doctor, right now.”

I managed to snap my fingers, and the Master bundled us both inside. “Zero Room?”

I rattled off the directions and we lurched farther into my TARDIS using each other for support. I was crying silently and felt miserable about it until I glimpsed wetness at his eyes, too.

Pinkish grey light and utter peace descended upon me with the slam of a door. I lay beside the Master and we stared up at the muted, soothing nothing of the ceiling.

“Holy shit,” the Master said after about twenty standard minutes. “That was close.”

“Wha-?” I responded. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so stunned and cramped.

“That fucking vine,” he said. “I don’t care if it _**is**_ sacred. It’s getting cut.”

“You can’t cut it,” I protested. “It’s against the law.”

“Hang the law!”

“Nope, gotta do what I say, because I’m the justiciar,” I reminded. “How about a neutralizing agent, like an ion generator?”

“How about a good dose of herbicide?” He shot back.

“We could uproot it and transplant it somewhere,” I returned.

The Master dragged a shaking hand through his hair. “All right. I’ll get some people on it, people that know how to handle it. Probably brewers, since they make drinks out of the horrible stuff.”

“Why’d it make us so cross before we-?”

“It’s got some sort of affinity with the pleasure centers of developed brains, but it enhances the mood of the moment,” the Master answered. “Why ask me, though? I’m a mathematician with a secondary focus on temporal structure and historical interplay, not a botanist.”

“You were a math teacher,” I said, giving a helpless, hysterical little giggle. “A good one, too.”

“Why, thank you, my dear.” The Master started chuckling, too.

“James Moriarity was a math teacher, too.”

“I taught him everything I knew about numbers and organized crime,” he said.

More giggling. We rolled onto our side at the same time to look at each other. “I have to be honest right now,” I said. “Vine or no vine, you kiss like nobody’s business.”

The Master’s unrehearsed grin was like sunlight. “I told you I worked on my technique,” he replied, his pleased voice rich with humor. He dropped his eyes for a lazy look at my mouth. “Your lips are obscene. Sorry.”

I reached up to feel them. Very slightly, they stung. “You need to shave,” I said. “Maybe your women like stubble burn, but I have higher standards.”

This set us off into fresh giggling, and a little bit of playful shoving. Eventually we sobered and sat up. The Master looked around the room a moment. “Your directions to get here were fairly good,” he admitted. “But I don’t think you’ve ever actually been in this room.”

“The TARDIS put the map in my head,” I confessed. “While we’re here, we could work on our little projects. You could fix the weather diagnostics equipment that Doctor Zaeus gave you, and I could work on those UV water purifiers.”

“Quit calling him ‘Doctor’ Zaeus; this isn’t Planet of the Apes,” the Master corrected absently. “Hm. Never considered it before, but that was a bit of brilliance, those humans recognizing they were apes. Allegorical and a social commentary at the same time.” He stood up and reached his hand down. “You have a good idea. I did say I’d fix their weather monitoring equipment, and those filters will be useful for the people who can’t or won’t hook up to the aqueduct.”

I accepted his aid and also got to my feet. “Well, let’s get to it, then,” I invited.

 

**

 

We set up in the main control room, mostly because I needed a certain tweeker in there and the Master didn’t want to be out of earshot if he was needed. To that thought, we left the TARDIS door open. And, because of that, when Zaeus delivered the pieces of ancient equipment for the Master, he got a look inside.

“My Lord Emperor,” he said in a faint voice, havin nerve enough to take a step inside.

“It’s safe, Zaeus, come in,” the Master bade him. “This is the Doctor’s ship.”

Zaeus put his bag of broken equipment on the Master’s worktable. He looked over the TARDIS controls with awe. “My Lord and Lord Adjudicator, is this sort of ship common to your people?”

“Well, yes and no,” the Master answered, carefully laying bits out for examination. “It was considered commonplace, but only because our people forgot the brilliance of their ancestors, not because they understood anything. These ships were widely in use at one time, but this one is one of only two left, I believe.”

“Isn’t she beautiful?” I asked. I couldn’t resist getting compliments on my precious old girl.

“My Lords, she is magnificent,” Zaeus said with complete sincerity. “She comprises all of the Holy Elements. I feel her life force pulsing all around me.”

The Master and I exchanged a look. Rarely did anyone sense the life in a TARDIS but those with special perception. Also, I’d never considered it, but my TARDIS _**was**_ a true representation of all the basic elements. Air because she could fly. Water, because she was organic, Earth because she was also mechanical, Fire could be represented by her many different ways to fuel herself. Spirit for the life force, and Wood… I gave a short laugh as I considered her basic, wooden shell, a shell I insisted upon because of sentiment.

“It’s little wonder that My Emperor and his consort are so adaptable to Seldatia,” Zaeus went on, still looking around in wonder. “Your people must be Elemental by nature, not practice.”

“All our people are gone,” the Master replied shortly, beginning to piece things back together with intuitive exactitude. “The Doctor and I are the only ones left, Zaeus.”

I watched covertly as the old man drew back in horror. “The only ones,” he whispered. “Then, you must pick appropriate females and have children, My Lord.”

The Master gave a bitter laugh that I couldn’t help but silently echo even though I missed Gallifrey and all the life upon it. “The universe is better off without us, Zaeus,” he replied, and I heard that he meant his opinion. “You’re looking at two of the most blood-soaked creatures ever to walk upright.” He clamped a sensor down to the base and grabbed from a pile of wiring I was using on the UV filters. “To be perfectly honest with you, my efforts here as emperor are the first, tentative steps toward proving I can be more than a murderer.”

I closed my eyes a moment, both thankful to hear that out loud again, because it reassured me, and, hating that the Master never had a chance to be anything but what he’d become. Our people had ruined him, then neatly removed themselves from blame. Denied it, even.

“But,” the Master said firmly, “the Doctor isn’t like me. He’s kind and generous. He’s been kind and generous enough to give me a chance at proving myself even though our history would preclude any such faith.” The Master threaded the wiring into the apparatus he was assembling, and twisted another few pieces together. He snitched my sonic screwdriver to cement the connections, not looking at his festival planner. “There’s no other person in the entire galaxy more suited to give complete power, yet he’d never take it, which makes him perfect to remind me of what I should and shouldn’t do.”

Zaeus lowered his head, ostensibly to think. After a long, long moment he brought his gaze back up to the Master. “Self-governance is indeed the most difficult control to achieve,” he said. “One may become an excellent ruler, an exemplary father or husband, an upright model citizen and a generous neighbor. However, one’s heart is not easily managed.” He put his hands behind his back and looked at me for a split second before turning his attention back to the Master. “And, the heart is the compass point,” he finished. With that, Zaeus bowed and backed out of the TARDIS.

The Master sighed and dropped everything in his hands to slump over the table with his head turned sideways so that he could meet my eyes. “Is it just me or is the philosophical wading around here like trying to move through quicksand?”

“It’s quicksand,” I agreed instantly. “Only, more like slowsand, right?”

The Master chuckled.

 

**

 

I made fifty of the UV sterilizers in the same amount of time it took the Master to complete the repairs on the decrepit weather monitoring equipment. He’d amended the original design and function, of course, improved on it, and even polished the metal until gorgeous. I admired his Steam Punk/Streamline Moderne design and told him so.

“I like the classic, bare-technology clockwork thing,” he confessed, walking around the revolving spires and gears to assess his work. “It’s elegant. One doesn’t really have to create completely along the lines of minimalism, though I confess I went through a stage of that.”

“Yeah, so did I,” I said. “It’s the way we were brought up.” I boxed up all the sterilizers and tucked them under my arm. “I suppose tomorrow I’ll start installing these. I’ll take a few people with me so they can learn to do it and I can just focus on making them.”

“Show some people how to make them, too,” the Master suggested. “These Seldatians are highly motivated to learn, and the exposure to non-polluting technology might inspire them to create even better things.” He paused to think, his eyes moving back and forth rapidly. “Solar cell panels, though… That’s going to take a bit of effort to make by scratch here. They’re barely up to good metallurgy.”

“Which is polluting,” I said, finishing the thought. “Some pollution is inevitable.”

“I know, but I’d like to leave this planet in better shape than I found it, for the sake of ego if nothing more.” The Master hefted the weather equipment and began carrying it out. “I’ll get Zaeus some grunts to carry this wherever he wants it. I think I’ll leave him in charge when we go.”

I affected a calm I didn’t feel. “Going with me, Master?”

“You’ve offered,” he reminded me.

“And, I meant it,” I assured swiftly.

“Then what’s to discuss?” He gave me a big smile and departed the TARDIS.

So many things had changed, and in so little time. Why, in our relative timelines, this was a mere inhale of good air, the first after centuries in a choking cloud.

I took the water treatment lights down to the lower levels, and knocked on Matreus’ door politely. “Come in!” I heard him say. I entered his domain to see Raenna and Alair in a far corner. They appeared to be taking turns reading to each other, but they paused to wave at me, smiling easily and naturally.

“They like it down here,” Matreus said, drawing my attention. He stood in front of his longest table, a few small fires under some cauldrons and glass vessels close to whatever he was working so hard to grind up. “For some reason, they even like me,” he added. “Though, I give them no spare moment. Having been denied an education because of their sex, they have to work twice as hard to either catch up or show off, right?” He winked at me.

I winked back. Finding a clear spot on his table, I put my box down. “Have a few minutes?”

“Of course, My Lord Adjudicator,” he replied, wiping his hands and coming over to my position.

“You know, ‘Doctor’ would be fine,” I said.

“If I address you as such, then my own title is lessened,” he told me, grinning.

I couldn’t help grinning at the sly old man. “Right.” I took out one of my UV sterilizers and placed it on the table. “This, when clamped to the interior of a water pipe, will kill harmful bacteria, making the water safer to drink. I’ve already analyzed the water source for the city and found it free of harmful metals, and your people have always used clay pipes, so the only thing that could cause so much disease is pernicious microorganisms.”

Matreus eyed me. “The unseen things that make people ill, that I’ve always advised people to boil their water to kill,” he summed up.

“Exactly.” I was impressed that he’d come up with this in a medieval sort of environment. “Ultraviolet light, which is probably invisible to you, is deadly to most of the little buggers. Your sun emits a bit of it, but not in a concentrated amount, not enough to take care of the vermin.” I showed him the long wire attached to the solar collector. “This is called a solar panel. Tiny little cells inside it collect the light of the sun and turn it into energy, into electricity. Lightning is electricity, but too powerful to harness for Seldatia right now. The charge goes down the wire to the light. If there isn’t any sun, a renewable battery turns on and does the job.”

Matreus again eyed me. “The way Frost Lichen collect the radiant heat of cave bats in order to glow and attract spores to reproduce,” he said.

“I’ll take your word for it. I’ve never seen Frost Lichen,” I answered. I put the sample back in the box. “Your emperor and I will be working like fiends to make sure every household gets one of these solar powered sterilizers where the well or water source pumps water to the living space.”

“Wonderful,” Matreus said fervently. “That way even the stubborn and the ignorant won’t kill their offspring from something as simple as dirty water.”

“Well, we’ll have to go on the ‘dirty water campaign’ anyway, Matreus, because the current level of advance here isn’t enough to make these solar cells, and an increase in population means a greater demand for clean water.” I leaned on his table, thinking about the matter. “We’ll have to add water safety to the curriculum in the schools. If the parents are too stubborn to learn from the children, then we’ll have to open adult schools, too.”

“Adult schools,” Matreus repeated, his bright eyes going even brighter. “My Lord Adjudicator, that is a brilliant notion. We already have academies of higher learning for the rich, the people able to spend to show that they are better without making a wage, but a school for those less fortunate is…” He shook his head. “It is a dream,” he announced. “If you can make it true, then the people are forever in your debt.”

“I can only try, Matreus, but you have to understand I’m rarely this enduring in a society. I usually have left long before now. Wanderlust, you know.”

Matreus smiled a little. “When you have someone to come home to, though, the wandering is less a need and more a holiday, sire.”

 

**

 

Like madmen, the Master and I churned out UV filters. In the two weeks we toiled, Sigglis, Zaeus and Matreus were given charge of the aqueduct construction with our specific, exhaustive expectations. But, on the Day of Wind, the aqueduct began producing clean water to the city, and those who could not hook onto it were all proud owners of a fine alternative.

We were so tired and cranky we barely spoke, either during the process or on the holiday dedicated to Air. Still, we functioned brilliantly as a team. So much so that we hardly noticed we did. I’d get food ready, the Master drew our baths, he’d choose our clothing and I’d keep the household in running order. We forgot about the insidious vine on the balcony, but it hardly mattered. We felt too tired to be wrathful, lustful, or anything else.

“Jesus Christ,” the Master said, more a sigh than a curse. I’d noticed he liked that particular Earth blasphemy and just let it go as inconsequential. “Doing this on the up and up with no grand plan to blow you to Kingdom Come is _tedious_.” By ‘this’ he meant ruling a nation, I expected. He threw on a silvery white svond of perfect, knitted silk and started managing the bright, shell buttons with more clumsiness than I’d come to expect of any of his incarnations. “Sometimes I just want to kill people until what I expect comes to pass.”

“From the bottom of my right heart, I thank you for not reverting to form,” I said, looking at myself in the mirror. I had a svond to match his, of course, since we dressed for another of Seldatia’s endless ceremonies. I’d had a recent hair-pulling and clay bath; yesterday, actually. “You’re being quite patient, and also you’re a brilliant emperor.” I ran a hand through my hair. It wanted cutting. Badly. It was past my shoulders now. I hadn’t noticed because I’d been horribly busy. “Would you whack off some of my hair?”

“Are you kidding?” The Master turned to give me a strange look. “Do I look like a hair expert?”

“You don’t have to be.” I plucked a pair of wicked looking sheers from his desk manager and handed them over. “Just cut it. I can’t stand it long, never have.”

“Sit, then,” the Master ordered with another sigh.

I sat, and he began to cut.

“Did Sigglis say what this particular ceremony involves?” I asked hopefully. The Master’s adept and careful fingers in my hair felt absolutely incredible.

“We stand and look pretty while the dancers do their routine. After, there’s a meal of all the plants here that require wind to pollinate instead of bees.” Snip, snip, snip; hair began falling all around me. “Incense is lit, and we gather at the uppermost spire to watch the migration of some sort of bird that comes into town.” Snip, snip, snip. “We’re free, then. Free to drag our Time Lord carcasses back here to fucking bed, which I assure you I intend to do come hell or high water.” Snip, snip, snip. “And, you’re getting tied to the bed tonight. I don’t know how you find the energy to sleepwalk.”

“Fine,” I relented. I didn’t care, truly. “Make it a soft rope.”

“I have a satin one set aside for your delicate wrist,” he assured, and I didn’t know if he was teasing or not. Snip, snip, snip. “Your mane is as wild and unmanageable as you are,” he complained. “No two hairs go in the same direction.” Snip, snip, snip. “Feels good, though; really soft.” Snip, snip, snip. “You always, always have this sort of thing going on with your scalp; chaos.” Snip, snip, snip. “If you’d just concentrate you could regenerate with civilized hair.”

“My blond self had civilized hair,” I argued. I secretly enjoyed this hair cutting session. Not only did the Master’s touch elicit feelings of close fondness, I liked that I could trust him near my head with a sharp object. More proof that he’d changed for the better. “My ninth regeneration had practically no hair. Maybe you’d have liked him better.”

“I didn’t get to see him,” he reminded. Snip, snip, snip.

I concentrated, using his contact to show him what I meant. The Master stopped cutting as I pushed the lifespan of that incarnation into his head, in its entirety, in a matter of seconds.

“Oh,” he said in a small voice. “Oh, _Doctor_.”

“I don’t wanna talk about how lost I was,” I warned.

The Master resumed cutting, but slowly. “I felt that you missed me,” he revealed lowly.

“Of course I missed you. You’re the only constant I’ve ever had, for good or for evil.” And, that was the plain truth.

Snip, snip, snip. The Master combed his fingers through my hair, seeking perfection, as always. “Little Rose Tyler is the only reason you survived, regardless,” he murmured. “I teased you about her.” He drew in a breath, let it out, and kept on cutting. “She was your Ailla, though she wasn’t a treacherous bitch at all.”

“No, Rose was magnificent,” I agreed instantly. “And, still is. I just can’t _see_ her while she’s being magnificent.”

The Master made few more cuts before brushing my shoulders of hair, his movements slow and precise. “I…” He released a very long, hard sigh. “I don’t want you to believe I can’t comprehend your loss. But…”

“I know,” I murmured back.

“Well, whatever happened to her?” He asked softly.

“I left her on a parallel Earth with a metacrisis version of myself,” I answered. God, that had hurt, watching her kiss him. She must have wanted me as much as I wanted her, and only been too noble to push me into any sort of commitment. She understood me. She’d decided she’d rather have me the way I was than push me into anything, which made her above ninety-eight percent of her race. Then, I’d offered her the dreams of her heart with myself, and she’d taken them. All that mattered was her happiness, but I’d suffered. The lonely Time Lord going back to haring around time and space for adventures to stave off the entropy and inevitable void of singular existence.

The Master put his forehead on the back of my head, at the rear peak of the crown, and exhaled slowly. “I could never have made fun of you for this one,” he admitted. “Not even in my cruelest moment.” He straightened and finished cleaning me of hair, then, his movements deliberately brisk. “I’m glad I told you of Ailla. You _did_ understand, didn’t you?”

It was a completely rhetorical question, and free of any feelings but sympathy.

“Yeah, I got it,” I told him. “In a way it felt good to hear about Ailla, because of Rose, and because I could never say out loud how much pain I was in. When Martha started traveling with me I realized I had to start working through it, though. I hurt Martha terribly without even knowing it.”

“She was in love with you,” the Master murmured. “I saw that. I even used it. Still, the pair of you smashed my plans.” He tossed the scissors down and stepped back for a look at me. “Looks a mess, which means you ought to like it.”

I went into the bathroom for a good look in a mirror. He’d cut my hair perfectly, the fussy prig. It was exactly as I liked it. “It’s great,” I called out, running my fingers through the part that stuck straight up. “I wonder why my existence revolves around my hair so much lately?”

“I don’t know, but if I were you I’d quit getting plucked. It can’t be good for you,” the Master shouted back.

I suddenly had the thought that the Master and I had become entirely domestic, and that neither one of us seemed to mind. In fact, I would bet he found it comforting, because I did, too. We weren’t cozy and probably never would be, but I thought we’d proven we could cohabitate with equanimity and a certain level of camaraderie.

“I can’t quit getting plucked,” I said as I joined him again. “It’s expected. The oils are getting on my nerves, I’ll admit. But, I’ve gotten used to the eye paint.

“I haven’t,” he said, chuckling lightly as he strapped on a rapier. “Every time you glance my way it’s like looking into an abyss.”

“It’s making you uncomfortable?” I hadn’t expected that.

The Master shrugged, managing to sum up in that slight shoulder movement a contradictory lack of concern and a bit of discomfort. “You always have intense, manic eyes,” he answered, though. “Tons more life than our contemporary’s, and off the scale in comparison to our elder’s; however, the eye paint rams that home in an unavoidable way.”

My eyes made him feel judged, I understood in a flash of insight. And, they probably ought to, because I was forever leveling them upon him in an attempt to discern what he was about. “I’d say I’m sorry,” I murmured, “but you know-.”

“Yes, I’m perfectly aware that to you I merit looking toward,” he interrupted with a grim sort of tone. “I’m also resigned to the fact that I’ve done quite enough to make you never, ever trust me. It’s nothing for you to feel sorrow or guilt over. I did what I did and I can’t change that without a lot of bothersome temporal shifting.” He eyed me askance while tightening his sword belt. “And, I could do that,” he admitted. “Being talented, determined and ambitious lends a lot of opportunities that others don’t even imagine.”

“Yes, I’m fully on line with that,” I admitted, thinking of some of my more irresponsible solutions to problems. Now that I had no lofty members of the High Council to answer to, I was unfettered and wild. It didn’t even feel good. I’d thought it would, but of course, no. Still, the Master hadn’t waited until there wasn’t anyone to call him on the carpet. He’d never been satisfied with doing things the traditional way, the way our people insisted. Which was why his compliance with tradition here seemed so telling.

The Master perched on the edge of his desk with the athletic casualness so recent to this regeneration. He drew a foot up, bent his knee, and wrapped his arms around his leg. His gaze seemed to go into me and just stay there. “Do you know how I perpetually escaped capture, or how I managed to always have a TARDIS or two at my disposal when my current one became unusable? Have you ever thought about the fact that our own people failed to find me when I wished to vanish?"

I’d pondered all those points endlessly, of course. Even with a TARDIS, a Time Lord can be found by the High Council. I sat on his bed and nodded. “Yeah, you’ve got the ‘slippery’ down to an art form,” I admitted. “Even with all your bragging you manage to keep secrets and stay mysterious.”

The Master smiled with only one side of his mouth. “That was a backhanded compliment,” he scolded mildly.

I affected an innocent mien just for fun, which made him chuckle.

“So, what are you trying to tell me?” I asked. “You have a secret place no one knows about? Does the Master of Disguise have an identity that absolutely no one can see through?” I paused to think of the past. “And by the way, what was up with that weirdo disguise you used on me when you were trying to harness the Xeraphin Consciousness? That was completely unnecessary.”

Again the Master grinned. “Maybe so, but the look on your face was priceless when I unmasked.” He slid off his desk. “We’re going to be late if we don’t go now."

“Hold on, you can’t just throw a tease for information out like that and then blow me off,” I protested, having to skip a bit to catch up to him. For a shorter person he could move quickly. “I hate when you drop candy for me to follow and then the gingerbread house has two witches instead of one!”

 

**

 

By the time we endured another religious homily, ate a vegetarian meal, and watched the dancers, I was mostly unwilling to go to the highest spire to watch birds. I could tell the Master felt the same way, but only because of being attuned to him, not because of any facial tells. He had a poker face, for sure. All of his emotions, when displayed, had an equal chance of being false or true.

Sigglis, who’d either taken command of this ceremony or been appointed to it (I didn’t know or care which), positioned the Master in front of the large viewing scope. We weren’t expected to get a good look at these birds. Hann, who’d taken to standing on the other side of me, had whispered that the Needle-Lights, as they were apparently called, were extremely shy of people. A single feather from one could fetch an outrageous price among the ornithologists of this world.

“They make silk, like silkworms,” Hann whispered as the Master obligingly took command of the telescope. “They spin it to bind their dead to tree limbs, because they never make landfall.” She looked up at me with an expression of excitement and awe. “I’m so pleased the emperor invited the palace staff to watch this. It was forbidden, before.”

No one really paid attention to us talking, because Sigglis was droning on and on about the Needle-Lights, and most everyone assembled here seemed spellbound by his recitation. I imagined this information, previously outlawed, thrilled them. In a society where learning and schooling is power, only the learned are powerful.

“Legends say that Gwillain the White, when mourning her wife, was so pure in her grief that all the Needle-Lights in existence visited her at the burying place, and made her a silk mourning shroud,” Hann went on in a dreamy voice. “She took that shroud and offered it to Air by hanging it on a bough of Raelen Wood. Air took pity on her and breathed life back into her wife.” Hann sighed happily at the good ending, elemental tale, looking up at me for approval. “They each lived another sixty years and died together by mutual consent, offering their bodies to Earth as a covenant.”

I found the strength to smile at her idealistic and macabre fancy. Actually, I could understand the power of such a tale. And, I admired this culture for allowing all sexes equal opportunity in love even if they did it nowhere else; so many places, planets and people I’d seen, and so many were hung up on gender, acting as if love and sex was always about procreation. Even with their gender biases here, Seldatians didn’t give homosexuality a single thought.

An inrush of air in the crowd, a collective gasp, took my attention from Hann. The Master stood at the telescope, but not bent over it. Scores of brilliant, tiny birds hovered around him, lighting upon him, making swift and darting circles. They looked like Earth’s hummingbirds, but even smaller. Some of them were no bigger than my pinkie nail, but even the largest were no bigger than a thimble. They had beaks so fine, long, and sharp that their name seemed self-evident. The air positively throbbed with the rapid force of their wings, which moved exactly as a hummingbird’s would, as far as I could tell. They were silvery blue or silvery yellow, and the tiniest ones were a silvery green.

His face as immobile and solemn as a priest’s, the Master held his arms straight out at his sides, spreading all his fingers. The birds lit upon him to every centimeter of purchase, and he went stock still to oblige them. In seconds he was completely covered in Needle-Lights, even his face, but he didn’t move at all.

And then, the birds began to lift up, looping over, around, through, between, high and low, long, delicate strands of transparently fine silver trailing from their bodies. Others darted in, their viciously sharp beaks rending his svond to pieces while their brethren replaced his garment with one of their own design and making.

I’d seen a lot of strange and wonderful things in my time, but I’d never seen birds act as weavers, or birds that produced silk, or even tiny birds like this that weren’t afraid of larger creatures. I was very, very open to the incredible, the fantastic, the magical, while possessing a mind that desired scientific explanation. I could see no scientific explanation in this; just like I couldn’t find a logical, technical reason the Master and I had been selected for an elemental bestowment.

In less than four minutes the Master stood before us in a raw silk, glowing cheongsam, and the absolute radiance of its silver and white construction caught the sunset like a blaze. The birds came back, and the Master, smiling in fascinated pleasure that would prove obvious to the most ignorant, tried to pet each and every bird with a single finger, his strokes patiently light and painstakingly careful.

It took thirty minutes exactly for him to touch every Needle-Light. They burst from him like Earthen quail, their buzzing wings the only sound around us. The garment they’d made him was already dry, and caught a breeze that made the hem lift and ripple like a scarf tossed to a hurricane. Everyone assembled got a long, lingering look at his strong, muscled legs.

He hadn’t reacted badly to anything about this strange happening, not even once, not in any way.

The Master departed the tower, and I quickly fell into step behind him. The gathered people descended with us only as far as the third landing before dispersing in silence. In less than a minute he and I occupied his quarters, and he started examining his ethereal, lovely garment. “That was worth every argument, ill-will, frustrated impotence and instability I’ve encountered,” he declared softly. “Did you see them, Doctor? They were beautiful, pliable little things. All of them together didn’t weigh nineteen ounces.”

“I saw,” I assured, my voice equally soft and sober. “Your affinity to Fire and Air drew them to you, I guess.” I had to wonder, though. Hann’s story said that pure grief drew the Needle-Lights. Was the Master grieving? How would I know unless he said so?

“Help me take this off,” he said lifting his arms. “I don’t want to snag it on something. It couldn’t be more valuable if it was made of souls.”

“That’s a disgusting analogy.” I carefully lifted the shoulders portion up so he could duck under. The feel of the garment was unbelievable. “What will you do with this? Is there another occasion you could wear it, even?”

Naked, the Master carefully took his precious clothing and put it on the bed. He hadn’t a care for his state, apparently, but I thought I might be distracted by such a miraculous little bundle of silk, too.

He really had a nice arse.

I got one of his odd, masculine sarongs out of the closet, whipped it around his waist and tied it off. He didn’t even notice.

“I suppose I could wear it when visiting the temple, but that would be a bit much,” he finally answered. “It’s one thing to witness a religious miracle, and quite another to rub it in people’s faces.” He touched the vibrant, shimmery silk carefully, smiling a little. “I’m not a modest man, you know, but… Well, when birds clothe you, you have to take notice.”

Yeah, I supposed so.

I took one of his heavier, wooden hangers from the closet, and a svond I’d never seen him choose. Silk is harder to rip than you’d think, so I got his scissors and cut the svond into strips to wind around the hanger. It took less than a few minutes to accomplish. I handed it over.

The Master jerked a little. He hadn’t been paying the slightest bit of attention to my activity. But, he understood in a flash what I intended. Smiling his approval, he hung his Needle-Light gift on the padded hanger and put it on the open door of the wardrobe so he could look at it. “I suppose I really can’t wear it again,” he said. “It’s lovely, too. Such a shame.”

“You could donate it to the temple,” I suggested. “That’s tasteful. It would remind people of their faith and their emperor without being ostentatious.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea, Doctor,” he murmured. He sighed then. His eyes, so dark and intent, lifted up to mine. “Why do you think the birds made this for me? All that elemental stuff makes for good stories, but what’s the nature of it all?”

I shook my head. “Maybe they thought you needed the lightness of air. You, like me, are pretty heavy wading.”

The Master smiled just a bit. “Yeah,” he said simply.

 


	7. Chapter 7

A pillow hit me in the face. I groaned and rolled to face the balcony, seeing the Master standing there, smiling broadly. He had on a white svond today, and I didn’t think he realized how see-through it was. Or, maybe he did. With him, who knew? “What?” I asked, drawing the word out to three seconds in my groggy irritability.

“I feel like going shopping,” he announced. “Unfortunately, we’ll have to take a contingent of guards with us. Can’t be helped, I suppose.” He reached down and grabbed my big toe, giving it a wiggle. “Get up. I promise to take you somewhere you can pile up your pockets with sweets.”

I made to roll out of bed, got hung on something, and flopped onto the floor. “Ow!”

“Oh, sorry.” The Master pulled a knot of sheets away from my arm, revealing I was tied to the bedpost by my wrist. “Kept you from wandering off, though. One would think that meant you’d wake up rested. Instead, you look like hammered shite.”

“Thanks,” I grumbled. I hadn’t felt him tie me up, which meant he’d done it while I slept pretty hard. “Let me clean up first.”

“I wouldn’t dream of putting you on my arm in your current state,” he said, rolling his eyes.

I dragged into the bathroom and got cleaned up fairly fast. I was getting really good at putting on the eyeliner. Two swipes over and under each eye, actually. I grinned at my reflection. Okay, clean teeth.

“Doctor!”

“I’m coming!” I shouted back. I took one last look at myself and quitted the opulent room of hygiene. The Master was on the balcony, not standing at the door with a tapping foot. As I approached I saw a Needle-Light had taken perch on his shoulder. It was the only one, and indigo silver.

“She’s by herself,” the Master said. “I came out here to assess the horrible Vine of Strife, and she landed on me.” He put out a finger and the bird instantly lit upon it. “Doesn’t she know I’m a cat?”

“I’ve seen birds make friends with cats,” I said. “There are really not as many natural enemies in the cosmos as people think.”

“Well, she’s beautiful,” the Master replied, holding her close to his face. “Like a hummingbird, too.”

The Needle-Light hopped back onto his shoulder and stayed there. She stayed there while he strapped on a rapier and put on shoes, and rode him all the way down to the ground floor. She stayed on him as we got in the carriage, and even appeared to settle. The Master and I exchanged a glance, then. “What does she want?” He asked quietly.

“Hummingbirds like sugary liquid, so maybe that’s what she’s waiting for,” I said.

“We’ll stop at the first sweets shop, then,” he decided, appearing to relax a little.

The Master would have garnered attention despite the bird, because he was the emperor and no doubt word had spread about the Needle-Lights making him a garment, but absolutely everyone who came into contact with us stopped to stare. I supposed we made a spectacle, at that. There was the charismatic Master of All Matter, an exceptionally rare bird on his shoulder, and me, the believed ideal of masculine beauty here on Seldatia, on his left arm.

In the candy store, the Master bought a bag of syrups stored in beeswax, or the equivalent. You were supposed to put them between your teeth and smash the edible shell to make the liquid burst in your mouth. The Master and I settled at a table and he patiently held up the small confectionaries so the bird could pierce them and drink. She loved the things, too.

My hearts swelled at seeing the Master taking care of such a tiny, seemingly insignificant little thing. He’d have no more done this in his past than deliberately get dirty. His enjoyment of the Needle-Light was obvious and uncontrived, too, and the people that covertly watched us were smiling.

He bought another three bags of the odd desserts, then ordered something for me. I enjoyed the strange, vanilla-like cake a lot, but secretly had a yen for good old Earth tiramisu. I wondered if he’d ever had it. If not, I’d take him to get the finest one day.

We traveled on to the temple so he could give his garment up as an offering. The bird stayed with us. The group of elderly men that maintained the temple saw us coming, and lined up to greet their emperor. They saw the garment in his hands and the bird on his shoulder, and prostrated their old bones despite the Master’s wishes they get up.

Their lilting jumble of language wasn’t TARDIS-translating at all well, but I believed the Master understood them perfectly. He put the diaphanous svond into the trembling hands of the chief elder. “For Air,” he said in the more common dialect here. “Perhaps, if the Elements favor me, I might be able to add Fire.”

“My Lord Emperor, there is Holy Fire at the top of Mount Gherza,” the man said, bowing his head afterward. “My father brought it here when I was just a boy, but also he bore the disgrace of letting it die.”

The Master’s eyebrows lifted. “An accident?”

“He suffered a strange ailment of the head and collapsed dead atop the fire,” the elder admitted. “It would not burn him, as he was a dedicated and faithful worshipper, but allowed itself to burn out.”

“Indeed?” The Master stroked the Needle-Light as he appeared to think. “This is a dangerous journey, I take it?”

“It is almost invariably fatal,” the old man answered. “The other Elements jealously guard the holy flame. The trees will strike you, the streams rise up to drown, the Air grows dense and choking. My father only succeeded because he believed in their power and had the greatest respect.”

The Master nodded slowly. “I will go and get the Holy Fire,” he announced. “May I have a map?”

I didn’t think I’d ever seen such scrambling, especially in the elderly. In mere moments the Master had a scroll case full of maps, and the old men were adding their knowledge verbally, even if only in the form of legends and hearsay. When he finally broke away, he looked more than a little surprised.

“Perhaps I was hasty,” he said to me lowly as we got in the covered cart.

“Well, maybe, but you and I together should be able to do anything,” I replied.

“I’m supposed to go alone,” he pointed out. “If I do go, I must have you at the palace anyway. You’ll keep things running smoothly and the way I want them."

I felt a childish pout coming on and did everything possible to stop it. I didn’t want him away from me, firstly. Secondly, it was an adventure. But, I supposed he was right. The both of us being away might cause trouble. There still might be trouble when word got out he was gone…

 

**

 

It took all my willpower to not get in my TARDIS and track the Master down from Mount Gherza. For three whole days I threw myself into utter work, focusing on all the little projects the Master had played with only to come back to the palace and start drafting up a concrete, easily understood set of laws for the people. The Master’s hunting cats took to following me around instead of their true owner, and I got a little comfort from their company.

But, night was the worst. At night I lay in the big bed with the cats, feeling dismayed at how much I missed having the Master here with me. His presence, so magnetic and lively, made this room and this bed feel comfortable. I’d promised him I’d tie myself to it, because he wouldn’t be here to make sure I didn’t sleepwalk, and I complied with that.

By day four, I was a pacing, irritable wreck of nerves. I imagined all sorts of things had happened to him. I thought he might be lying somewhere in need of help. I told myself that I was worried over nothing, for the Master had survival to an art form. Around and around in circles my mind went. I hated that I’d said I wouldn’t go after him.

Day five, the Master’s estimated return made me anxious. I dressed carefully, thinking there might be some sort of political ugliness to not greeting my so-called mate in finery. The women of the house, aware I was a mess, helped me to look my best. I barely heard their chatter and their assurances.

Once at the temple, I took to pacing again. The elders murmured to each other about how pleased I’d be to see my lover while speculating if he’d even return. They pitied me, I understood.

Sunrise became noon, and noon became sunset. We waited without any of the lamps, candles or torches lit so that we might spy the emperor by the fire he should carry. And, we finally did. A cry lifted out over the solitary watchtower, and we gathered on the outer grounds, straining our eyes. There, in the distance, was a flickering blue and green flame.

The odd fire grew closer and closer. I spied the Master holding it in his hands. He was dirty, his face cut and abraided, his clothing torn, his lip split, but was walking well. His eyes sought mine first, and he smiled a little. That smile held triumph, the completion of his task, the pleasure of seeing me again, and a little bit of I’m-ready-to-quit-this-quest-now.

“Our Lord Emperor has brought the Holy Fire!” The lead elder, whose name was Hira, called out, and the waiting acolytes cheered.

The Master very carefully entered our midst. The flame in his hands ate nothing, and danced atop his cupped palms. Slowly, he entered the temple and took the flame to the altar of Fire, where he gently placed it. I saw a flash of silvery indigo, and the Needle-Light flew from him to perch upon the altar to Air. I somehow knew she wouldn’t follow the Master home, now.

As soon as he was clear of the altar, I thought to make a public confirmation of the relationship everyone thought I had with the emperor. I pushed through the group and took his hand.

The Master instantly stopped speaking to the elders, pulled me close, and kissed me fully on the lips. _Insist upon my departure_ , he said, his mental voice desperate. _I’m filthy, starving, and in need of my bed_. He parted my lips forcibly, thrusting his tongue in my mouth with an expertise that made my knees weak. I felt his fingers twining in my hair, keeping me still for the incredible skill of his mouth. _Hurry, Doctor_.

I broke free, but took his hand again and pulled him from the temple. The old men, cheering and clapping, let us go without another protest. As soon as we were inside the cart I’d taken here, the Master slumped back and gave a heavy sigh. “The reason people don’t make it back isn’t due to the elements,” he informed. “I counted no fewer than fifty species of psychotropic fungi on that mountain, and five different kinds of plentiful, narcotic flowers. Once you get about a quarter of the way up, you start hallucinating.”

“Wow.” I eyed him closely. “Are you all right?”

“I have a pretty bad cut under my ribs,” he admitted. “I have it staunched with mericopsis moss; didn’t want to show up as the triumphant emperor with a big, humiliating bloodstain on my clothes.” He winced as we hit a bad bump and got jostled. “Even the water up there is mind altering,” he added. “I think it’s the stones it flows over. Damn, but it tasted good even while knowing I was about to trip my balls off for giving in to thirst.”

I couldn’t help a grin. “God,” I said. “Well, I ordered tea and food for you to be waiting.”

“Thank you, my dear,” he said. “I need both. I’ll eat in the bath.”

The Master made good on his word. He sat in his bath, eating and drinking and turning the water pink with his oozing cut. Matreus brought a tray of medicines and linens up and waited patiently while the Master got enough food to satisfy.

“I have some things in my pack for you, Matreus,” the Master said, polishing off his fifth cup of tea. “I brought back samples of the mushrooms and flowers."

“My Lord Emperor, you are a delight,” Matreus said, taking a peek. “And you even separated the mushrooms in waxed paper bags to keep the spores from crossing.”

The Master smiled wearily and attacked a big, meat-dripping animal bone.

“I take it you’re familiar with the things?” I asked Matreus.

“Well, some of them appear to be in my oldest learning tablets,” Matreus replied, smiling in a way that I knew he was absolutely thrilled. “I can’t wait to cultivate them and do some experimenting.”

“Go to it, then,” I invited. “I’m a doctor, too, and your emperor is actually my species.”

“Thank you, My Lord Adjudicator,” Matreus said, casting his gaze to the Master for permission. The Master waved him away, and Matreus vanished with the mushrooms.

“I knew he’d like them,” the Master said. Wincing, he hauled himself from the water and sat on the tub rim so I could get started on his cut.

I stared at it, suddenly horrified. It was much deeper than he’d led me to believe, and not anything to put off taking care off. I got the alcohol and poised it over his wound. “On the count of three,” I said.

“Oh, just pour it,” the Master told me.

I slopped it inside his rent flesh and he stiffened, but didn’t make a sound.

“You need stitches,” I said. “I’ve never had to stitch a Gallifreyan.”

“If I’d been eating enough, drinking enough tea, I’d already have healed,” he replied. “Just sew me up, then; I can stand it, I assure you. Once you’ve endured being nothing more than a decaying scab, something like this is quite paltry.”

Now even more sobered, I selected a needle and a heavy gauge thread. “I know of only one other Time Lord to survive by force of will,” I murmured. “Omega.”

“Yes, you actually met him,” the Master mused, not flinching or reacting to me stabbing the needle through him over and over. “Brilliant?”

“Without a question.” I got halfway down and paused to align the curve of the wound in my mind. “You fell on something to get this. What, a rock?”

“Very sharp rock,” he confirmed. “That’s why there’s bruising, too.” He bolted another cup of tea.

“Another Sharpie scrawl on a Michelangelo,” I said sadly.

The Master gave a little chuckle. “Scars are manly,” he argued. “I’ve always secretly envied creatures that could get them. See what they mean by being careful what you wish for? Still, I’d planned to create a little scar in one of my eyebrows the next time I regenerated. Give me a rakish look, you know?”

I finished and held sterile padding over the closed wound. “Keep that on there while I wrap it,” I told him.

“Okay.” The Master watched me take out the roll of gauze and start applying it. “Why aren’t you starting above the wound and working down?”

“Because the thickest gauze will lie where it’s needed most this way, and be thinner where you have stress of movement,” I answered.

The Master let me work in silence a moment, but only a moment. “You actually are a physician, aren’t you? You weren’t to start with.”

“I have hobbies,” I confirmed. “Medicine is pretty interesting, especially when you constantly get chances to study it with aliens.”

As I wrapped him, I felt he was staring at me. Just before I finished I reached my limit, and gave him the eye contact he was silently asking for.

He was studying me.

The Master’s focus, never something to take lightly, was completely and utterly upon me. I had every bit of his attention. His dark, gorgeous eyes examined my face slowly. Something about me, or about my answer, had intrigued him. It was like being under a magnifying glass.

He was such an intelligent man. I hated what had been done to him. If only they’d left him alone. Still, he’d done impressive, if monstrous things even with such a severe, distracting handicap. If our people were still around, they’d never stop him if he decided he wanted revenge, and the Master always wanted revenge. Could wait for it indefinitely, actually.

“I don’t want revenge against you,” he told me softly. “You’re exempt.”

“I didn’t mean to be projecting,’ I said, helping him stand. If I knew him, he’d want to shave. His current identity liked being clean-shaven.

“You’ve been alone a few nights, so perhaps that’s it,” the Master replied. As expected, he took up a razor and began applying soap to his face. “Did the cats keep you company?” He lathered and started scraping hair from his jaw.

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t expect you to be able to keep your word,” he said.

“I almost didn’t more than a few times.”

“I’m not swanning off on you.”

“That wasn’t the worry,” I said.

He looked at me through the glass as he shaved, then, his gaze absolutely piercing. “You’ve never stopped feeling concern for me,” he murmured. “Not once.”

“Was I supposed to?” I cleaned up our mess and washed the blood away, aware he was still watching me.

“Any reasonable man would have given up on me centuries ago,” he said as he wiped his face.

“I never claimed to be reasonable.” I held out my arm to him. “You need to sleep.”

He did lean on me in going to his bed. Once he was tucked into the covers and I was following suit, I noticed we were cat free. Shrugging, I pulled up the sheets and blankets and got comfortable. After a moment’s consideration, I tied myself to the bed. The Master must have heard me, for he laughed very lightly and rolled over to look at me. “Is it helping?” He asked.

“It seems to be,” I admitted. “I really didn’t know I had this much of a problem with going walkabout in my sleep. It makes some of my surprise destinations in the TARDIS very suspect.”

“I’d say. Nothing like realizing you’ve been piloting the Vortex in your sleep.”

“Yeah.” As I lay there, staring up at the ceiling, I thought of the Master’s expertise with kissing, and the fact he’d so easily drawn me in. “You’re a great kisser,” I said.

“So you’ve said,” he replied, his voice warm and sleepy. “What is it? Do you want another one?”

I did, but I also didn’t want to admit it. Our relationship was complicated enough without kissing. Never mind that my toes curled when he applied his mouth to mine. I found that very novel. Few people had kissed me, and even fewer had managed to really get me stimulated. Madame de Pompadour, now, she was an expert.

We both fell asleep before the Master’s question and my answer could become a problem.

 

**

 

I awoke for a few reasons. Yes, the birds were out and the sky was lightening, but I also had a body straddling mine. I blinked with sleepy incomprehension, getting the Master’s face in focus. He was staring at me and smiling in a peculiar way. This was certainly a step up from being bullied out of bed, or hit with a pillow, but I felt mildly confused inside of sleep fog. “Wha-?”

“You don’t get morning breath,” he proclaimed. “I’ve had to get up and brush my teeth, but you’ve been breathing on me and it isn’t objectionable.”

I blinked a few more times. Really, lying flat on my back underneath the universe’s most dangerous creature ought to stir more concern than this, I thought dimly. Especially as it seemed I now had both wrists tied to the bed. I gave my legs a twitch and found they were still free. However, I was under the covers, and he wasn’t, which effectively served as a restraint, anyway.

“You really are an artful thing when you’re held captive,” the Master commented. “Quite blood-stirring.” He sat back on his haunches to take a long, leisurely look at me. “Maybe I’m just partial? After years of getting you restrained only sporadically, perhaps seeing you like this is particularly rewarding?”

I started feeling mildly worried. The Master’s self-reformation was admirable, but Rome wasn’t built in a day; I was there, so I knew. He’d come home after a long, hard bout of hallucinating, and he might not be finished, actually. Some psychoactive mushrooms and flowers caused a libido increase, too. He didn’t need any help with his libido.

The Master flexed and fell back over me gracefully. “Here’s the kiss you were too afraid to ask for,” he informed, his mouth hovering over mine. “I suggest you keep your thoughts to yourself about my prowess, because yes, my libido is off the scale, and you’re a very convenient outlet, my dear.”

His lips really were most persuasive. I melted. He could turn me into putty in seconds, and I liked it. Fear had its place, but he was incredible.

“Not even trying to get away,” he murmured upon pulling back the barest bit. “No protests, no thrashing, just lying there and accepting what I do.”

“You’re very good at kissing,” I protested weakly. “And, since we were never entangled romantically, and you hate rape, what do I have to worry about?”

The Master’s reluctant smile told me I’d said the right things. He freed my wrists and rolled off me for a good, long stretch. Unbidden, I heard his voice, a memory from a while back. _“You don’t cooperate with kissing very much, if I know you, Doctor; it’s too intimate. And, you’re perfectly right to protest. Kissing is more intimate than fucking.”_

But, I hadn’t felt it was too intimate, had I? At the time I had, but not now. No, I’d been perfectly willing for it this morning, and upon his return yesterday. And, thinking farther back, my conversation with Miss Alair gave me a little jolt.

“ _Why didn’t you just let him kiss you? That’s what Mommy did.”_

“ _He doesn’t want to kiss me, he wants to strangle me.”_

“ _No, he doesn’t want to hurt you. He’s just sad you don’t appre… appre…”_

“ _Appreciate?”_

“ _That’s it, appreciate. He’s just sad you don’t appreciate him. Why don’t you?”_

 

Had I gotten something wrong? Did the Master actually want me? I searched my head again, returning to the Fertility Festival.

 

“ _Kissing you isn’t a light suggestion, Doctor. Correct me if I’m wrong, but we’re in the very beginning stages of remembering what we were like as friends. And, I was enjoying that.”_

 

“ _Yeah, me too, but, if we don’t comply with this festival, your standing will probably plummet.”_

 

“ _Even with the work I’ve done here, Doctor, I have more history with you than with the Seldatians.”_

 

“ _Pretend I’m someone else. I won’t let this change our dynamic.”_

 

“ _I have a lot of imagination, but nothing so vivid as to turn you into someone else. And, if you think for a second that even a small intimacy wouldn’t alter our dynamic, you’re kidding yourself.”_

 

Had he changed his mind? The Master didn’t simply change his mind, not ever. He needed convincing. He required the stakes going up and the balance swinging out of his favor in order to amend his plots and plans. But, I wasn’t threatening him, and he wasn’t up to no good. At least, I didn’t think any of those things applied.

“Do you over-think everything?” He asked me, leaning over and looking down.

“Look who’s talking!” I protested. “You can’t just allow that I’d be thinking about us kissing? Seems to me it’s a pretty big incident in a _**long line**_ of big incidents between us!”

“Exactly,” he replied smoothly. “All we are is big incidents.”

Frustrated, I shot a hand up and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him down to me. “You smug son of a bitch!” I rolled him under me, attacking his mouth for all I was worth, determined to do collateral damage to his ego, at least. His gasp of surprise became a hum of satisfaction, but he still fought. I’d expected that, so when he changed our positions, I flexed to put him right back under me. We rolled, rolled, and rolled some more, and only the size of his bed prevented us hitting the floor long before we actually did.

We landed pretty hard, on our sides, which momentarily stunned us. The Master struggled valiantly to reclaim the dominant spot, but I wasn’t having that, not this time. We tumbled, grabbing and twisting, our lips doing battle with a lot more efficiency than the rest of us.

I was on fire to teach him a lesson. Years upon years of standing back and waiting for him to throw some horrible fate my way, attempting to out-think the smartest person I knew and having to work like the devil to get around him, it all crashed into me with brilliant and glittering provocation. I pinned his wrists and darted down, nipping him under his jaw just barely hard enough to hurt. If I knew him, he liked a little pain.

 _Oh no you don’t!_ He said in my mind, and pushed me. I tumbled off of him and sat flat on my arse, arms braced backward. Instantly, my eyes were drawn to his wounded side. It was leaking a little, strained from our exercise. Shame flooded me.

“I’m so sorry,” I blurted.

“Please,” he drawled, getting to his feet. “It’s worth it to see a little vindictive heat in you.” He arched and stretched to have a look at his stitches, and it rammed home the fact I’d been tumbling around with him stark naked. I hadn’t given it a thought, and neither had he, apparently. And, God, he was beautiful.

Always.

He ran a finger through his blood and looked at it. “You’d do well to remember I’m the restrainer and you’re the restrain-ee,” he said, and his lips twitched. He was teasing me. Crouching before me, he put out his finger and painted my bottom lip with his blood. “You run, I chase,” he added. “I blow things up and you foil my plans.”

“I didn’t think that was as much us anymore,” I confessed. His blood tasted rich and complicated, tinged with his artron. I licked it off, and his eyes followed the movement of my tongue.

“Yeah, it’s not,” he agreed. “Except for the running and chasing.”

“I’m not running.”

The Master lifted an eyebrow. “Doctor, you’re all about running,” he argued softly.

 

**

 

I took a day off, more or less, just to think about my situation in depth. I couldn’t go anywhere without twenty guards, though, which irritated me. The Master didn’t have this many when we traveled together. Pondering that, I realized he considered himself worth the protection of ten men. He was probably right.

I swam in the lake with the guards all pointed away from me, except for one. His hat and military-type ascot concealed a lot of his features, but something about him just hit me odd. Taking a chance, I waved him closer.

Oh my God.

Jack.

Harkness squatted on the end of the dock and grinned at me. “I take it my spatial concealer doesn’t work very well?” He asked. “It was supposed to obscure my ‘wrongness’."

“What are you doing here?” I whispered. “How did you get here in the first place?”

“Punny,” he said, still grinning. “Hitched a ride with a mechanical man and a man who claimed to be you,” he answered. “He also said he was a parallel, Flesh Doctor, but he didn’t look like you. Kind of dishy, if young.”

“Where are they now?” I asked, hauling myself from the water. The android Master had picked up a future copy of myself from a parallel universe. Even as a machine he was brilliant.

“Swanned off. They said they’d be back by autumn,” Jack answered. He looked at my abbreviated swim trunks and eye paint. “So… The Master?”

“Is emperor here,” I said grimly. “He won’t be pleased to see you, Jack.”

“Ah, he’ll be all right. He can’t kill me, remember?” Jack helped me stand up. “So, what’s the deal?”

“I’m his second in command.”

“You’re kidding.” Jack gave me the hairy eyeball. “You accepted any kind of rule?”

“I did it by accident,” I admitted. “Still, I’m not bossing people around for anything other than the normal management of the palace.”

“And, it’s a great palace,” Harkness said easily. “The Master must have made a moral inventory if you’re living with him.”

“He’s trying to do better.” I sat down and opened my picnic basket. “I’m worried he might backslide if he sees you.” Actually, the Master absolutely hated Jack for his out-of-time permanency.

“You had better be going about your job,” I heard the Master’s voice said, getting closer with every word. “I don’t pay you to harass my-.”

Jack stood up and turned, and the Master stopped dead. “What?” He asked bluntly. “How long have you been here, Harkness?” His eyes moved to me, and I saw betrayal.

“I had nothing to do with it,” I said instantly. “He says your android copy brought him here.”

“This morning,” Jack finished for me. “Needed a job in the local military, so I applied. Imagine my surprise as seeing the Doctor and you on peaceful Seldatia.”

The Master eyed him for what seemed an eternity. He looked at me again. Then, he stepped back a deliberate six feet and arrogantly motioned Jack to come closer. I watched in agonizing suspense as the Master spoke to Jack, and so lowly I couldn’t hear a thing. Jack tilted his head. His eyebrows went up. He said something back, something that had the distinct edge of a warning. The Master narrowed his eyes at him and replied, then turned on his heel and marched away, back toward the palace.

Jack sauntered back to me, smiling, but his eyes were troubled. “Congrats,” he drawled. “I’m your bodyguard when he isn’t around.”

“What did you say to each other?” I asked.

“He told me quite plainly what would happen if I let you get abducted,” Jack revealed. “I told him what I’d do if he shrunk you and put you in a birdcage.”

I groaned. “Jack, I don’t need you championing-.”

“Like hell you don’t.” Jack interrupted.

 

**

 

“Why did he do it?” The Master asked, striding up and down the bedroom like a man possessed. “Why would my mechanical duplicate go and retrieve Jack Harkness and bring him here to Seldatia?”

“That isn’t the best part,” I said. He’d been pacing like this for an hour. “He was accompanied by a parallel, future version of myself, made of something called Flesh.”

The Master whirled around. “Flesh? I know what that is. It means your real parallel self deliberately made a copy of himself.”

“Sounds like something I’d do,” I admitted. “He says they told him they’d be back in autumn.”

“That’s two months!” The Master threw his hands into the air, looking disgusted. “I don’t want to put up with your girlie freak friend that long!”

“It isn’t his fault he’s immortal,” I protested.

“An Eternal isn’t at fault for his own immortality, but I hate them,” the Master shot back. He gave me a Look. “You aren’t to be openly friendly with him in public,” he ordered. “The people around here will take one look at him and think he’s moving in on what’s rightfully mine. My status will go down if everyone believes you’re fucking him!”

Even though what he said made me mad, I had to grudgingly agree with him. The Master and I weren’t really a couple; we just played to that because of convenience. You can’t really explain a relationship as complicated as ours. “Yeah, Jack’s never made a secret of his…”

“Persistent randyness and fixation upon you,” the Master finished for me. “If you gave him a dram of encouragement he’d be on you faster than you could blink.”

“True.” Jack liked to look at me, and when he did I could see his thoughts.

The Master sighed through his nose and continued to pace. “Just the sight of him makes my gut churn,” he said lowly.

“I’m a Time Lord, too, remember?” I asked, holding up a hand.

“How do you stand his Continuity?” He asked.

“Well, it’s sort of like looking at an automobile wreck. Morbid fascination blended with pity and the desire to not get involved.” He’d work himself into a real lather if I didn’t calm him down some, but I had no idea how to go about dosing him with calm. I’d never been successful at that, not with the Master. “Why’d you make him my personal bodyguard if you can’t bear him?”

“Because he’d do anything to protect you, he’s deathless, and he’d do it anyway. All his sneaking around to protect you would be seen, and we’re back to public disgrace,” the Master listed swiftly.

“Still, looks kind of good to have an immortal among your employees,” I mused aloud. “People might think even more of you when they understand Jack works for you and can’t be threatened. You know what I mean.”

“So, I should arrange an accident for him,” the Master replied, sounding serious. “Immolation? No, I’m known for fire affinity now.” He waved a hand impatiently. “Trampled by the lizard horses? No, one could live through that.”

“You aren’t getting him killed just so everyone can watch him resurrect,” I said sternly. “Besides, this is Jack we’re talking about, here; he’ll do that himself, given time. A fight with a jealous boyfriend, playing the hero…”

“Yeah, you’re right,” the Master said, relieving me. “That hero shit gets you killed quick. You ought to know.”

“Excuse me, you’d gone through five regenerations before you even got exiled for the Prydonian Revolution,” I protested. “How does a math teacher kill himself that often?”

The Master rolled his eyes. “You don’t have the stomach for that answer.”

I didn’t press it. “Look, Jack bothers me, too, but he _is_ a friend of mine.”

“As long as he doesn’t become a friend with privileg-.” The Master halted his words to give me an intense, probing look of pure heat. “You haven’t fucked him, have you?”

“I don’t think it’s any of your busin-.”

“Answer me,” he demanded, bristling visibly and looking taller. “Did you _fuck_ him?”

I stared at him in the sudden idea he was jealous. “No,” I said slowly. To test my theory, I added a casual shoulder shrug. “I did consider letting him, because I thought that would get me out of his system, but decided it wasn’t a good idea.”

The Master eyed me so hard I could almost taste him in my head. “You liar,” he accused.

“Yeah, I lied,” I said. “I didn’t consider it.” I didn’t like that he could tell when I was lying, not at all. “Wanted to hear what you’d say,” I explained.

“Don’t joke about letting Harkness give you the high hard one,” he replied. “It’s disgusting.” The Master went to our tray of afternoon tea things and poured a splash into a cup, his arm moving with jerky, irritated precision. “Even if he wasn’t a disturbing example of accidental immortality, he could hardly be clean. One can see he’s a promiscuous buck without a shred of caution.”

“A buck?” I grinned. “I’d say Jack knows what safe sex is, Master; he’s too interested in getting attractive partners to risk VD.”

“Nevertheless,” he muttered.

“Look, I’ll be careful,” I assured. “With any luck, Jack will find a partner quickly. He’s attractive and persistent, after all. And, people around here aren’t hung up on gender roles when it comes to actual sex.”

“That’s true,” the Master admitted grudgingly. “Although, I never saw him as attractive. The only time I ever liked his looks was when I was torturing him.” He bolted his tea and gave a little shiver. “I don’t like looking at him. He triggers an old response in me.”

“I worried that he might,” I said.

“Did you?” The Master eyeballed me a second before pouring more tea. “You’re a perceptive thing, for the most part. Usually not for me, but there we are.”

“It isn’t my fault you’re mysterious.” I got up and poured for myself, grabbing a handful of vanilla flavored biscuits. “Your motives and plans are usually quite cleverly hidden.”

The Master gave a tiny jerk of his head as he accepted the compliment as his due. It wasn’t enough to back him down from a grassy knoll, but it seemed to slightly ameliorate his ugly mood. “I’m not so hard to figure out,” he protested. “I have a large ego and large appetites, a desire for conquest and a lack of moralistic restraint.”

“You’re always selling yourself short on that last one,” I complained, making him look at me. “With a little effort and practice you could do a lot better with the moralistic restraint. Even death’s agent would have rules to follow.”

“What do you know about it? You avoid death.” The Master had no heat in his tone, just fatigue. He rubbed his forehead and set his cup down. “My head hurts.” He tapped a four beat rhythm on the desk six times in a row before appearing to force himself to quit. “Go see if any of those narcotics are left in the loo.”

Worried for him, I obeyed. I found a jar of neatly balled-up doses of what he’d given me while I was recuperating from my kidnapping, and carried it in to him. He took three and stuck them under his tongue before shedding his sandals and crawling into bed. “Don’t open that door unless it’s an emergency,” he said tightly, smashing his face into a thick pillow. “I don’t trust myself right now, Doctor.”

I locked his door, shed my Converse and jacket, and got in with him. “I’m sorry,” I said, scooting close. “Maybe some sleep will quiet the drums.”

“The drums are never quiet,” he murmured. But, he allowed me to gently inveigle an arm under his neck. “On and on and on, like having another Time Lord trapped in my head, his hearts beating faster than mine, urging me forward. Do it, go, kill, maim, mangle, eviscerate…”

Sorrow gripped me. He was so plagued, and it wasn’t his fault. Centuries now he’d had those drums, hammering at him for war. It was amazing he hadn’t been more destructive. He must have held on with bloody-minded determination ever and always. I guided his head to rest on my shoulder, and he pressed his face against my neck, inhaling heavily.

“If I ever get a chance to kill him, Doctor, I will,” the Master said, his voice against my throat making me shiver.

He meant the Lord President. And, I wouldn’t try to stop him.

 

**

 

The Master slept in my arms for nearly twelve hours. I dozed intermittently, aware that those narcotics would keep him from awakening unless urged to it, but unwilling to risk disturbing any peace he managed to find. So, when someone tried his door I just kept still. Eventually, the lock was picked, and the door swung open very lightly to reveal Jack.

He looked at us, and his eyes relented to a strange sort of apology. He didn’t know about the Master’s drums, and he didn’t know what we were to each other, but he was trying to accept what our position looked like. Carefully quiet, he stepped in and shut the door. “I knew it had to be deeper than friendship,” he murmured.

I had a choice. I could allow him to continue to believe what this looked like, or I could tell him the truth. One would open a completely different set of woes and the other would make Jack continue on in a mild quest to get me in bed himself. If I took the first option at least the Master might get a bit more leeway in Jack’s reasoning. If I took the latter, he’d see the Master as weak.

The Master never wanted to be seen as weak.

“A man doesn’t do what the Master has done when he’s simply angry at an enemy,” I answered quietly. “We have centuries of issues to resolve, centuries of personal history. We grew up together, Jack.”

Jack nodded. “I guess Earth was just a pit stop in your games,” he said, and his observation wasn’t entirely without censure.

“Volcano Day,” I said back. Jack wasn’t guilt-tripping me about Earth, not when his fondness for it was fairly new.

Jack winced. “C’mon, Doc.”

“Don’t throw rocks at me, then,” I replied. “I’ve saved Earth from hundreds of threats.”

“Yeah, and he knows that, and that’s why he picks it as a venue to harm you,” Jack said, and truthfully, too. “He attacks what you love. It’s deliberate and personal. Yet, here the two of you are, on a mostly unknown backwater world, cozy in a bed together. He’ll take your benevolence and make you eat it.”

“That remains to be seen.”

“It’s inevitable.” Jack put his hands in his pockets and had a long look at the Master of All Matter. “Why do you love him? He’s cruel.”

“You might as well ask why I love thunder and lightning,” I told him. “I’m not human, Jack, no matter how much I might look it, or how much I cherish Earth. I’m from a culture where duty is taught before anything else, where children know their place. There’s no joy, no risk, no freedom unless you take it.”

Jack lowered his head and looked at the Master again. “So, the two of you against the world and the world against the two of you? He’s your partner in wanting more?”

“The Master is my partner,” I agreed. “If you can’t accept that, I can’t do anything to make it better.”

“But, he doesn’t deserve your loyalty,” Jack argued, frowning.

“Yes, he does. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t there.” God, human beings were so arrogant, so sure their moral codes should encompass all of Creation. “You’re coming into this very late in the game, Jack.”

“It isn’t a game, what he does,” Jack persisted. “But, when you play it with him, you validate it.”

“I’ll talk to you about this later,” I said with finality. “If at all.”

Jack understood the dismissal. His eyes narrowed. He backed out of the room and shut the door with force, jolting the Master. I put my hand on his head and stroked his short, fine hair until he relaxed again. I wanted to protect him against everything that wished to harm him, to shield him from pain. That would prove impossible, but it didn’t stop my feelings and it didn’t mean I couldn’t successfully protect him in the short term. Like here and now, for example.

 

**

 

“I feel drained,” the Master complained, staring at his food and not lifting a finger to eat.

“Those narcotics,” I replied. “Try to eat your soup.” We were on his balcony, watching the sun go down. “How’s your head?”

“It doesn’t hurt,” he said. He picked up his soup bowl and had a sip. “I had nightmares. I dreamed Harkness came into the room and tried to seduce you.”

I pressed my tongue against the inside of my mouth. Jack’s voice had prompted the Master’s dream, no doubt. “Well, he didn’t try to seduce me, but he did let himself into your bedroom,” I admitted. “The violation of your privacy had a higher result, however. He thinks we’re…”

The Master snorted inelegantly into his soup bowl and set it down. “That won’t stop him,” he vowed. “He wouldn’t mind at all to help you forget about me.” He picked up a stick of celery-like tuber and crunched into it with force, chewing viciously.

“As if he could,” I replied.

The Master eyed me askance. “No, I don’t suppose,” he admitted, calming a little.

“I tried to explain the cohesive qualities of the history you and I share, but I think he ignored me for favor of the moral high horse,” I went on. “Humans are stubborn that way."

The Master tilted his head a little. “You made an attempt at explaining us to the freak,” he paraphrased flatly.

“Well, I really just let him think you were fucking a new hole in me each night and that I wanted you to,” I said, grinning a little at the look of dawning amazement creeping into the Master’s face. “It’s none of his business, is it?”

“Exactly,” the Master agreed faintly. He started tearing his bread into tiny pieces and letting them fall to his plate. “Well, as long as he doesn’t get it into his head that you need rescued from me.”

“I don’t think he’ll ever quit thinking that, but acting upon that opinion is something else,” I pointed out. “Jack does have some respect for me, if I haven’t ruined it by having you hoisting my legs.”

The Master groaned and gave a pained smile. “There’s your vulgar side coming out. I wondered if I’d ever see it again before I died.”

“Oh, you thought it was funny,” I argued, pouring him a glass of juice. “You’re the one who taught me a very long time ago to take advantage of what people believe; no one’s going to assume I’m the one hoisting your legs, are they?”

He gave a small chuckle and shook his head. “Maybe, maybe not. I’m the one that’s made a history of chasing you, Doctor, not the other way around.”

Oh, and that was the truth. The only time I tended to chase him was for getting some stolen property back, to prevent him killing someone, or similar things.

I looked at him, at the way the setting sun illuminated his darkened skin and made his bottled-sherry eyes gleam. He was a magnificent eye draw. Beautiful, smooth and elegant, with an underlying force of pure brutality; God, sometimes just meeting his eyes made me feel like I was falling eternally. His intelligence made the air around him vibrate now, just like in the days before he led the Prydonian Revolt.

He never should have wanted to chase me for anything. I had nothing he could possibly want. I wasn’t as smart, I wasn’t ever all that good-looking, just remarkable. We were both talented and inventive, but he could dream up the most amazing things. He had a genius mind that accepted no limitations, no boundaries, the complete opposite of our stodgy old, blinkered race. I’d never been able to outright insult him, there, except when I was so eaten up with jealousy of him that I couldn’t act right.

Those were bad days for both of us. I got so caught up in UNIT, in hating my own people for stranding me on Earth and tinkering with my head, that I hadn’t paused to consider anything but sulking. I was as arrogant as I’d ever been, and so envious of his freedom, his natural abilities. And, I’d hated myself for wishing I’d see him, for hoping he’d throw a challenge my way even if it proved horrible and dangerous. For, he’d been the only light at the end of my tunnel, the only proof I wasn’t becoming human from overexposure, and I resented that he knew that and didn’t care.

“I only give the possibility to hurt me, once,” the Master said softly as he sipped tea and stared into the last vestiges of day. “You have limitless reserves for that, and I don’t.” He gave a tiny shrug, as if a thought had just occurred. “I suppose there wasn’t any cause to make that an emotional thing, though. We didn’t learn our weaknesses as much as we were created with them.”

God, he’d been listening to me again.

The Master put an elbow on the table between us and extended his arm. “Take my hand, Doctor,” he asked more than demanded. His fingers extended, unfurled to allow our contact. And, though we were determined to make things casual, we never could. We were too wrapped up in each other to allow more alignment, yet we’d been doing so for weeks.

I copied him, and we poised as if to arm wrestle, though we didn’t. His palm felt hard, smooth and strong, his fingers firm and agile. The power of his life force hummed below his skin, but the heat of his pores made crackling energy.

“Why would you be jealous of me, my dear?” He asked, keeping my hand clasped and his face pointed away from mine. “You’re brilliant and creative, very versatile in your learning processes. I’m too rigid to flow into new things easily, while you just pour yourself into new experiences and demands with joyful abandon.” He squeezed me a little and smiled into his cup. “There’s no one as rare and exotic as you,” he added. “And, I collect the rare and exotic, especially if dangerous.”

 

**

 


	8. Chapter 8

I wished that I didn’t feel the need to examine the Master and his motives so much. Sitting there in bed, watching him sleep, I took a lot of pleasure in the gentle handsomeness of his relaxed face. Yet, I should be sleeping, not hanging over my once-best-enemy and trying to divine the workings of his hearts. I looked down at his bare chest and slowly pressed upon his right heart, feeling the beat. Then, I moved to the other. So reassuring.

The Master sleepily moved his arm, crooking his elbow. Slowly, he covered my hand with his. I felt the warm strength of him, the tenderness he’d always been capable of and had never showed me. The moment suspended in time, drawing my throat closed with beauty. Sliding back down to rest beside him, I still kept our hands together.

“I know what you need,” the Master rumbled. He rolled onto his side and gathered me against himself, in his arms. “You need held.”

I did, and so I joyfully accepted his offer of comfort. I felt my hearts would break, but the hurt was so good, so very, very good

 

**

 

Another week passed with the Master and me completing our varied objectives. Work on the improved housing in the city took his attention, while I ensured the stability of the palace down to the plumbing. Eventually, someone would have to take over for us, and we both felt determined to make Seldatia a showcase of our cleverness.

Jack, currently helping me track down the hot spring that fueled the Master’s splendid bath, hadn’t been talking to me very much these last few days. I suspected he was measuring me, attempting to judge if I was still the man he’d come to admire. I wondered if he’d found me acceptable.

 

“This is a scary place,” he commented idly, holding the lantern higher so we could orient our direction again. There were a lot of twists and turns in this tunnel, and the airlessness disturbed me a little. “You’d think a maintenance route for water would be slimy, though, wouldn’t you?

“Yeah,” I admitted. I could sense we were getting closer to the hot spring, though. My new affinity with water allowed that, but I didn’t know how it worked. At this point in my life, at this point in my age, actually, I was starting to accept miracles without thinking them to death. The miracle of the Master’s new mindset was enough to give my soul new buoyancy all by itself.

“Uh-oh,” Jack murmured, holding the lantern over. “Cave in. We’ll have to clear it.”

I looked at the pile of tunnel rubble, seeing the collapse had the placement of simple mortar failure. “Maybe not,” I murmured back. This was a good opportunity to see if earth responded to me the same way water did. I stretched out my hand and concentrated upon the stones going back to their original placement.

A groaning, grinding sound reverberated in the tunnel as the stones moved back into place. They didn’t leap up from the tunnel floor, as I’d half expected, but rolled up the wall, keeping in contact with their kin. In less than two minutes the tunnel was whole again. I stood under the repair and watched/guided the heavy clay to serve as new mortar, using my sonic to dry it and cement the stones securely. All in all it didn’t take five minutes for me to accomplish this feat, and when finished I felt rather invigorated.

“Doc, how did you do that?” Jack asked quietly from right behind me.

“Got the attention of Elemental Earth,” I tried to explain, knowing it sounded dumb but not having any other good way to put the event that led me to this point. “Water, too,” I added. “And no, I don’t know how it works. It’s just… well, it just happens.”

“Seldatians worship the elements,” Jack replied. “You and the Master are rulers here. Did it come with the job?”

“No.” We started walking again, getting ever closer to the hot spring. “The Master and I visited their oldest known elemental worship site, and it happened there.”

“So, what did _he_ get, fire?” Jack asked, intuiting perfectly.

“Fire and air,” I confirmed. The luminous, multicolored lichen down here posed a serious visual distraction, and I was only half paying attention to Jack’s conversation.

“Fire and air,” Jack repeated, sighing. “That’s perfect. Air fuels fire.”

“Never thought of it like that,” I admitted. I took a piece of the lichen and stuffed it into a collections bottle to take back to Matreus. I wanted to know the properties of this stuff. “Earth supports water, though. Bit of poetry in elemental thought.”

“You’re opposites that attract,” Jack mused, and I could tell by the way his voice lowered that he was giving serious thought to a mental picture that had actually never happened.

“Stop that,” I said sternly.

“Like I can help it,” he said, grinning at me a little. “He’s not a bad looking little tyrant, after all.”

“He’s not a tyrant this time,” I corrected, walking around the next bend. We were very close, now.

“This time,” Jack pointed out. “It’s still in him, Doctor, even if you’ve reached an accord.” He held the lantern higher so I could see better, using the excuse to stand closer, which I ignored. “I had a lot of time to figure him out, you remember? I might know certain parts of him better than you do.”

Now that stopped me in my tracks. I whirled on Jack, the foremost impetus in my head a blistering jealousy. It seized me so quick I didn’t even recognize my own voice when it came out of my mouth. “What do you mean?”

“Whoa, Doc,” Jack said, stepping back with his free hand in the air as if to ward me off. “Don’t jump to conclusions. Do you think he’d have stooped so low?”

“Humans aren’t too low,” I said. “He married one. I fell in love with one. Several, if you want the truth.” I made myself relax. The Master’s view on rape wasn’t gauzy; he wouldn’t ever do that. Jack had been a prisoner, and not able to work his charm even if inclined to do so for escape purposes. I was overreacting. Still, the very thought of the Master turning his attention to someone else made my stomach roil.

“My God, you’re really in deep with him,” Jack murmured, once again falling into step with me. “I should have figured so. In retrospect, you made no secret of it, and neither did he. I just thought there was some race loyalty going on, or the being the last two.”

“There is a bit of that,” I acknowledged. “And, so much more that I couldn’t sum it up, not to anyone, not even to myself.”

“Yeah, kinda gettin’ that, Doc,” Jack replied in a wry tone.

We turned to find the hot springs. It was beautiful. From a smooth rock bed, it burbled up, occasionally overflowing and spilling across the stone floor. It had done so for a very long time, making the floor dangerously without friction. A single pipe fed into it, a pipe large enough to feed the palace kitchens and separate baths as well as the Master’s hot tub. But, there was a broken place just at the water mark, and the pipe sucked in air, lowering the water’s force. I got closer to make sure that wasn’t a deliberate attempt to keep the water from building up too much pressure. Fortunately, there was a lot of lichen in this room, so light wasn’t an issue.

“Too bad about the pipe,” Jack said. “This is a spot made for romance.”

I rolled my eyes. He would see it that way. Yeah, I could get what he meant, but…

But, the Master looked wonderful in his civilized bathtub.

I shook my head. Where did that come from? I didn’t linger on the observations I made of his physical form except when looking right at him. Did I?

“Hey, Doc, if you’ve got earth powers, why not move the pipe back to blend in with the wall?” Jack asked. “It’ll hide that there’s a utilitarian purpose for this hot spring.”

I got a sudden suspicion. “You have someone you’d like to bring down here,” I accused. Nevertheless, I began doing what he wanted. The pipe was fired clay, and obligingly sank through the stone at an angle. I made the wall rise up to meet it, coaxed the rock into swallowing the pipe. The increase in pressure wouldn’t hurt anything. Now, the hot spring was decidedly heart shaped.

Jack chuckled. “Nice touch,” he praised. “How about a submerged bench all the way around?”

Thinking this was rather fun, I molded the bench to the depth he suggested. “Anything else?”

“Stone lacing around the lip,” Jack said with an innocent smile. “Open-weave, like twenty sea serpents going nose to tail.”

He was testing if I could sculpt, I imagined. Determined to show off and not be caught out as a disappointment, I sculpted images of this culture’s Great Dragon, the Sky Serpent. The images were joined nose to tail, like he wanted, and perfectly looped like stretched stitches.

Jack grinned at me. “You’ve got talent,” he drawled. “How about a single, small table about four feet away from the pool?”

“Need a place to put the champagne?” I asked coolly, making the one-legged table for him. To show off, I made it have the same rim as the pool. Then, as Jack chuckled, I molded a candlestick holder up from the center of the table.

“Excellent!” Jack’s delighted laugh rang down the tunnel and bounced crazily. “A couple of wall sconces?”

I made four of them, to go in an equal circle around the room. Then, I made a cooling bench, designing it for the comfort of a wet bottom. This really was fun. The stone, when stretching and flowing to suit my wants, revealed hidden colors and patterns. Those colors and patterns stayed when I finished making something. Inspired, I put my hands on the wall and thought about goblets with dragon stems. They formed, and I popped them loose, making the wall absorb the holes. I made sure to put some strut in my stride, walking over to put those goblets down on the table.

Jack clapped as I came back to him, showing nearly all of his teeth. “Now all it needs is that bottle of champagne,” he told me, his grin becoming just a very wide smile. “And, the last two Time Lords,” he added.

I finally had Jack’s approval.

 

**

 

“So, what did you do today?” The Master asked, walking up from the lawn like he always did, with purpose and energy. I was at the doors to the entrance hall, having dragged the dangerous plants outside for some real light and what looked to be a bit of rain.

“Aside from what you see, nothing much,” I answered, falling into step at his side. “Investigated the sluggish hot water and found the hot spring.”

“Oh?” The Master, sounding genuinely interested, handed his sword off to a waiting servant.

I took a moment to admire the cunning of this creature that stood before me. I’d seen a lot of kings and emperors, self-professed rulers and what have you. Most of them remained armed even at home. The Master pointedly did not usually put on his sword until on the brink of leaving, and took it off upon first coming home. It was a subtle show of trust that made his men extra alert. They knew he could kill with only the force of his mind, but that sword was more real to them. He displayed faith and they were determined to live up to it

“Jack insisted I make it pretty,” I revealed, watching his eyes.

“I see.” The Master began walking for the dungeon access instead of his bedroom, stripping off his gloves as he went. “And where is the illustrious Captain Jack Harkness?”

“He’s off tonight. Said something about going into town.” I followed him to the main stairs and shadowed him down. “Also suggested I was neglecting you."

“You are,” the Master agreed in a bantering tone. “It’s been days since I was ravaged by you.”

I smiled at the ease of his sense of play. Mean-spirited or sporting, the Master knew how to fool around and loved doing so. Had talent for it. “It’s hard to keep you in one place long enough,” I complained, perpetuating the tease. We were nearly at the end of the stairs now.

“I’m sorry, my dear,” he returned, sounding absolutely sincere. “I’ll take tomorrow off just for you,” he promised. He opened the access door and we entered the tunnel. “We can have a bit of a lie-in and you can ravish me all you want.” He conjured a flame in his hand so we could see.

We’d gone far past the point of eavesdropping.

“I won’t believe you unless you’re tied down,” I said.

Slightly ahead of me, the Master chuckled. “So, nothing’s changed,” he remarked, and those three words charged the air with something heavy and liquid. He acknowledged my play and gracefully pushed the past to the front for examination. “Well, I suppose I’ve tied you down often enough to warrant a bit of it myself.”

“And you call me a tease,” I murmured, slightly awed at how easily he’d turned our play into something both outrageously not a good idea and the most brilliant idea ever. A brilliant idea I couldn’t begin to seriously entertain. A brilliant idea that would surely mean an end to any avenue of escape from the Master. He’d be breathtaking in the speed and precision of my surrender, and once I belonged to him, that was that.

“Oh.” The Master looked in on the hot springs room, eyes appreciative. With a flick, he sent his flame out to dance in a wall sconce. It parted and leaped until all the sconces were lit, then crashed with abandon on the candle I’d brought down here. “You did make it pretty, Doctor,” he praised. “Well done. Utilitarian turned into art.” He knelt to take a good look at the dragon chain around the tub. “Very, very well done,” he praised me again, and warmly. “You even added a smoothing around where the water comes out, making this look hundreds of years old.”

“I thought it a shame to put up a new picket fence around an overgrown rose garden,” I said airily, but I loved the positive feedback. “Doesn’t the light reflect well?”

“It does. One can see a rainbow in all this black, even some silver veins.” The Master strolled around slowly, kicking his sandals into the entrance corner so he could feel the wet stone on his bare feet. “It’s very cool in here, but the water temperature will make that perfect.” He looked down at the bottle sitting on the table and gave a little frown, picking it up. “This is from my own vineyard, but about thirty years old,” he judged. Next, he eyed the glasses. “Well, you’ve certainly been thorough,” he said, smiling a little.

“Do you believe in coincidence?” I asked as I shed my jacket.

“No. Factors both known and unknown have a way of aligning whether we understand them or not,” the Master answered sensibly. He spied the bright blue bottle on the long bench and walked over to pick it up. “Why?” He asked absently, uncorking the thing for a sniff. His eyes closed and he shivered. “This is copal.”

“It’s what you already smell of,” I informed. “That’s why it seems nice to you.”

“Really? This is the way I smell to you?” He took another sniff before putting the cork back on. His eyes drifted over to mine. “You’re getting undressed,” he observed.

“So are you,” I said, not making it a request.

The Master’s eyebrows lifted in unison. “You’re getting a bit heavy-handed, my dear,” he warned softly.

“You’re not the only one who gets nostalgic,” I parried, carrying on.

The Master grinned at my answer, appreciating I could throw the weighty suggestion game right back at him. “So, you intend me to get into the water,” he surmised. “Why here, beautiful as it is, rather than my bathroom?”

“Because we’re never alone, ever,” I said, stripping off my shirt. “You have a guard within immediate call at all times. I never get to talk to you without listening ears.” I toed off my shoes and started on my trousers. “Even when we speak in our own language, our tone is noted.”

The Master nodded slowly and began removing his clothes, too. “Do you think, perhaps, that I’ll be different when it’s only the two of us?”

 

“Maybe, I don’t know. I want to see.” I stood naked and waited for him to catch up with me. “I told everyone to leave us alone tonight. They reacted as I expected.”

Chuckling lightly, the Master made short work of his svond. “I can imagine,” he said dryly. “What further instructions do you have for me, then, my dear?"

“Get in the water and enjoy it,” I answered.

In short time we occupied the custom, yet raw, hot tub. The Master gave a huge sigh as he relaxed backward. “It’s hotter this close to the source,” he commented. “Just lovely.”

“How’s the seat?” I asked.

“Good,” he told me.

“I can’t have it just be ‘good’,” I complained, scooting closer. I put my hand on the rock and thought about letting the Master sink into it slightly. He jerked in surprise, but I held my hand up, which quickly stilled him. “I’m not trapping you in the rock,” I chastised. “I’m custom-fitting.”

“Carry on, then,” he agreed warily. When I finished he gave a little wriggle and grinned briefly. “Excellent. My own comfy chair in a hot tub. Stuff of brilliance, really.” He stretched his legs out and made his toes briefly surface, then relaxed again. “Why ask me about coincidence?”

“No special reason. It was just on my mind.” I’d been reading Water for Love off and on, and identified with the characters too much, actually, but I wasn’t telling him that.

The Master shifted, wincing a little. “I’m getting tired of being bent over planning tables,” he complained mildly.

“That’s why I brought the oil,” I explained. “I’m going to give you a massage as soon as you’re loosened up from the hot water.”

“I see,” he murmured, his voice low with appreciation and also a little suspicion. “What did I do to merit the extra attention?”

“You groan in your sleep when you shift; it’s a pretty obvious malady. When you’re awake you can keep the pain to yourself, but while sleeping…”

“Yes, my night-time world is nearly as exciting as yours,” he replied, putting his head back. “Else you’d have never learned Ailla’s name.”

“You can tell me whatever you want, you know,” I offered.

“Not really. I told you my plans once, and it ruined a very well thought out insurrection,” he replied, lazily swirling his arms in the water. “The defining point of our relationship, actually, was that I can’t trust you.”

“ _I only give the possibility to hurt me, once,”_ he’d said to me.

“You can’t give me another chance?” I asked softly.

“A chance at what?” The Master rolled his head to look at me with curious, pleasure-softened eyes. “Friendship?”

“I loved being your friend,” I confessed, feeling lighter for having said it out loud.

“You still are,” he said. “That should have been easy to see, Doctor; friendship is a complicated thing for Time Lords, and has more facets than the friendships you’ve acquired with humans. We hold our hurts and betrayals as numbers, while they nurture them close, hold them against their hearts as proof against risk.”

He was such a perceptive thing. Maybe I _was_ judging our friendship on a human standard. I was always so caught up in my favorite species. My metacrisis version of me had amazing human naturalness, too. “I wasn’t looking at it that way,” I admitted.

“Of course you weren’t; you’re about the positive, the good and the joyful,” the Master said, his voice still very soft and gentle. “You think we stopped being friends because you decided I wasn’t acting like one. I, on the other hand, never quit.”

My left heart gave a squeeze, and I quit breathing.

“So, if you’re giving anyone a second chance, it’s yourself,” he continued on calmly. “Maybe this time you’ll take me down personally instead of ratting me out to someone. I tend to think so, actually; the years have made you into a very dangerous thing. You’re still benevolent, and you’re still self-sacrificing, but you’ve learned how to kill.” He sat up a little bit, eyeing me with startling intensity while I tried to remember how to breathe. “Your humans taught you that, didn’t they? The brigadier, maybe?”

My left heart shuddered on. “Several times,” I admitted.

“One of the few humans you collected that I had respect for,” the Master said, his eyes half shutting as he thought. “Oh, and that little Jo Grant. What nerve she had. I entertained quite a few carnal thoughts on her behalf.”

Surprised, I considered the interactions I’d had with him while Jo was my companion. “Didn’t make it clear,” I pointed out.

“Unlike you, I’m able to put aside lesser matters for favor of the largest one,” he chided. “You’ve always been the largest one, so you haven’t seen that, I suppose.”

I began to understand how his definition of friendship varied so much from mine, and that I’d been the unfaithful one, not him. To the Master, once you were his friend, he never gave you up. You’d still be his friend even while he shot you or put you six feet under soil. All these years he’d been serving me punishment for the offense of betrayal, but he hadn’t stopped considering us friends. The connection should have been obvious to me, too, for people don’t bother with revenge unless their emotions are still tied up in the person who hurt them.

He’d said I was all about running. I knew that was true, but another level of my cowardice had opened up. Yes, cowardice. He liked to call me one, and I’d always taken offense, because I was forever proving to myself I did have some sense of bravery. Yet, push me into any sort of obligation, any emotional commitment, and I ran like the devil. I’d severed ties with him on Gallifrey doing that very thing. I’d told the people in charge that he planned to take over the Prydonian Academy, and if I hadn’t, he would have succeeded. He almost had anyway. Then, I’d run far away from him.

The Master had chased me throughout time and space to serve me up some discipline, and I’d evaded, thwarted, foiled him over and over. Instead of discouraging him, he’d gotten progressively more hateful and determined. I should have known that would happen. A real friend would have taken his nature into more consideration, but no, my arrogance had neatly taken reason out of our equation. The more I resisted, the more he pursued.

I wasn’t resisting anymore.

He knew that, and that’s why he wasn’t punishing me now. Because now, with the guilt of Gallifrey and years of hardening, I needed penance. I’d stayed on Seldatia for a lot of reasons, but the idea of getting some soul-purging penalty from the Master had also enticed me. I’d thought to use him, on a level so deep I hadn’t realized it. The Master was letting me squirm in that desire to seek release, realizing it was the best option for getting some of his own back.

God. I was terrible.

“You’re crying,” the Master said softly, sounding surprised and also dismayed.

I put a hand up and felt wetness. The black paint was coming off, too. “Crying comes easier than it used to,” I whispered, my own voice so shaky and tremulous I barely recognized it. “You know how I wallow in things.”

“Well, yes, but what have you got to wallow in right now?” He asked. “You’ve been doing a lot of things here on Seldatia that ought to satisfy your do-gooding nature.” He spread his arms a little and lifted his eyebrows at me. “ _I’m_ even trying to do things your way for once. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

“It counts for everything,” I protested, wiping my face hurriedly and trying to get some control back in myself. “Don’t pay me any mind; I’m just doing some moral house cleaning.”

“Ohh, that,” the Master said in the tone of one who totally understands. “I’d quit that if I were you. You don’t need any more standards to set for yourself, Doctor.”

“Standards that I’ve used for everyone except you?” I blurted before I could stop myself. Time to quit running. Finally.

The Master’s eyes widened slightly. “You really did want to talk away from listening ears, didn’t you?” He asked rhetorically. He sat up and turned his body toward mine, resting one arm on the dragon chain pool rim. “What’s wrong?”

I thought of how he’d taken care of me after my torture, then, how patient and gentle and kind he’d been, and wondered if that had only been the furthering of his goal. Take care of me kindly because deep down, I really wanted hurt. It made me frantic inside, and I put my hands up to my temples and pressed down hard. Madness for me to be so conflicted! I didn’t think I’d ever been so confused in my life. Did I really depend on him so much for correction? If I thought about how many times he’d been instrumental in putting me on a better path, it was staggering. Worse, the idea that he’d known all along how to guide me toward this moment.

I risked a look at him, and in his eyes I saw the proof of my thoughts. In those bottled-sherry eyes I recognized grim, grim approval. He held no pleasure for my lesson, just like a parent steps back and lets a child hurt himself to finally prove the truth of his warnings. Hadn’t he said exactly what I’d only come to understand?

 

“ _You allowed yourself to be hurt because you feel you deserve it. The guilt you carry over Gallifrey’s destruction is making you into even more of a masochist than you were previously. That’s what makes it easy for you to hand yourself over to me. You look at what I’ve done to you in the past and believe I’ll hurt you. You think you need to be hurt. And, this is where my real victory over you comes, Doctor. I have no intention of hurting you. I could do it with skill and finesse to satisfy even your sense of self-recrimination, but I won’t.”_

 

There was nothing I could say. Normally that would only mean I’d talk more, but this time I was completely unable to summon even the most pointless, silence-filling noises. I slumped down in the water and stared at it, willing my eyes to quit burning. The Master said he loved me, and that it was none of my business. Well, he’d spoken truly, hadn’t he? If I made it my business, and he accepted that, he’d be wide open to another betrayal. He wouldn’t allow me that chance. He’d continue on with his apparently unshakable focus upon me, enjoy a renewed camaraderie, but no more.

The Master _was_ grieving. Had _been_ grieving. Thought he’d eternally grieve. That was why the Needle-Lights had spun him the garment, to lighten his soul.

“Do you ever wonder why it had to be us?” The Master asked me. “Did you ever consider the depth of our attachment and contrast it to the teaspoon-depth of feeling our people had?” He idly splashed water on his arms and rubbed a little, making me consider I’d forgotten soap. “Those bloodless bastards made it easy to flee, didn’t they? The thought of carrying our lives out on Gallifrey was horrible. Even as children we feared that.” He relaxed back down, apparently seeing I wasn’t about to erupt out of the hot spring in a spasm of guilt and terror. “We’ve always been similar in that. A few other ways, too. As you observed your first day here, we’re more alike than different.”

“And, where we differ, we’re polar opposites,” I muttered. Self disgust had a good hold on me now. “Why haven’t you pointed out where I’m lacking?”

The Master gave a short, bitter laugh. “Your flaws are comforting,” he said. “If I didn’t have those I’d be so afraid of you I couldn’t function in your presence, Doctor.”

“You don’t ever have to be afraid of me,” I protested, feeling fresh tears welling up.

“Doctor,” the Master repeated slowly and softly. “You’re the most frightening thing the cosmos ever spawned. You’re a mad god. You’re Loki. You’re Elegua, the faith healer, the fortune teller.”

“I’ve never wanted to hurt you,” I said, unable to look him in the eyes.

“I know. I’ve even used that about you.” The Master gave a short sigh. “And, I’ve admired it, too. You never lose your determination to treat me well.”

“You’re nothing to squander.” That truth fell out of me like a bomb.

“Neither are you. So, quit your wallowing.” The Master put his arms backward and hauled free of the water. “Now, I believe you promised to give me a back massage. I’m holding you to that.”

I made myself quit the stewpot and follow him to the stone bench. He got on his stomach and let his arms drape down both sides. I stared at that beautiful, darkly tanned back, that small and trim waist, and shivered. But, I got the oil bottle and managed to open it. “This should have been in the water with us,” I thought out loud. “It’ll be cold from this room.”

“I don’t care,” the Master drawled. “Your hands will warm it up soon enough.”

I thought of how much time he’d spent as a walking corpse, and how much pain he’d likely been in. As a hedonist, the Master joyfully sought pleasure. I poured the oil into my hands and warmed it with brisk friction before spreading my fingers over his shoulder blades.

At this first contact, the Master gave a little groan of enjoyment. “How nice to have someone’s touch, touch I can trust,” he murmured. “Always so reliable, Doctor; so very consistent.”

“Except when you needed it the most,” I replied, working to get the oil spread evenly. “Gallifrey and Sarn.”

“Twisting in one’s own traps is a lesson, and you deserve some recognition for having the stomach to allow it,” the Master told me, making my guts lurch. “Unfortunately, I never learned how to make better traps.”

“Never learned how or refused to make one that stopped us dead?” I asked.

The Master’s back rippled with sudden tension. He seemed to forcibly unwind, then. “I hate that you see through the subterfuge,” he confessed.

I swelled with wretchedness. All of our combined genius made for a disgusting display of ego and cruelty. I leaned down until my forehead rested between his shoulder blades and took a deep breath of copal, fighting for calm. “I don’t want this game anymore,” I whispered against his skin. “Why can’t it be as simple as togetherness?” I already knew the answer to that, though. I’d ruined the togetherness. I wouldn’t be able to do it over any differently, either, because he’d have killed so many more in the academy without my betrayal.

I straightened up and began working on him in earnest, determined to fill in the panic of my soul with physical activity. And so, I used every bit of my skill and gave all attention. In only a few minutes the Master was limp and completely unresisting. I massaged and kneaded on his back for more than an hour, getting out every last ball of tension and painful kink. He fell asleep, his handsome face positively radiant with pleasure and peace. And, I envied him.

 

**

 

“It would help if you didn’t think of us in such black and white terms,” the Master said as he crunched his way through a salad. We’d met for lunch on his balcony, and I couldn’t focus on my food at all. He ate the freshest greens available and never slathered them in dressing, just had them served with a dash of vinegar. “You’re going to have to put on a happy face or something, because Alair’s noticed your desultory focus, and Harkness has been glaring at me all morning.” He pushed my plate closer as a prompt to eat. “I suppose he thinks I didn’t appreciate your efforts with the hot spring.”

“I don’t know how you can bear to sit here and look at me,” I replied, picking at my meal. I’d felt lost for what seemed like days, when in truth I’d only suffered less than twenty four hours.

“You’re easy to look at,” the Master said with a wink. “My beautiful consort.”

Despite the situation, I responded to his teasing. A little smile edged out on my lips.

“Was that so hard?” The Master slid over the tea setting.

“It’s just that there’s no hope,” I said. “You’ll never see me the way you did on Gallifrey, not ever again.”

The Master shook himself a little as if I’d said something that washed over him wrong. “And?” He prompted. “Is that what you were hoping for secretly all these years?”

“Yeah,” I admitted.

“Oh.” He sat back a little and stared at me. “And my no-second-chance policy is bothersome.”

“If I want any sort of real relationship with you, it is,” I said, darkness swirling around my soul like a dropped funeral shroud in a windy graveyard. “And, even if I got a chance for a do-over, I couldn’t change what I did.”

“Yes, I know,” the Master assured quietly. “But, that sort of resolve is something I like about you, Doctor. I could do without the self-castigation and the moping, though.”

“There’s no one to rebuke me but a certain someone who refuses to,” I bit out, pouring tea with angry movements. “I’m all that’s left. If I don’t punish me, no one will.”

Suddenly, I was jerked to my feet and shoved against the balcony wall, the Master in my face. His hands made fists in my jacket lapels, and his strength surged against me. A wild bit of hope took hold of my hearts, hope that he’d hurt me somehow and give relief, but I squashed it ruthlessly. I knew better than that.

He sought my eyes and held them, his focus so intense and piercing that I felt him inside me, looking for things I didn’t even know existed, seeing things about me that I only barely understood. “Do you have to be so magnificent in your pain?” He asked, and quite seriously. “I swear, there’s no one in the universe so able to twist me into knots.”

“I’m sorry,” I tried to say, but he only pulled me forward and shoved me back against the wall to cut me off.

“You should be sorry,” he said in a tone of utter wrath. “You’re asking me to indulge in the very things that I’m working so hard to either suppress or eradicate, and I’d _think_ you’d be pleased at my efforts. Instead, you want me to revert to form just to alleviate your guilt.” He shook me a few times and let go of me, stepping back and breathing hard, his eyes like fire. “You can’t just accept what’s happened and try to go on, can you? You’re desperate to have that little boy I used to be. He was safe and he needed you even if he needed no one else. Is it that important, Doctor? Don’t I have any value the way I am right now?”

“Of course you do,” I whispered. My throat ached so much.

The Master turned from me and picked up our lunch, throwing it over the side of the balcony. His chest heaving, he promptly fell back against the wall and clutched at his right heart. “It’s not fair,” he swore viciously. “Why are you always so far behind me? Why couldn’t you have figured out what you mean to me _before_ I nicely excised you?”

“Because I’m always late,” I answered miserably. “For a Time Lord, that’s unforgivable.”

“I thought you wanted me tamed,” he said back, his voice just as wretched. “That went along with my plans to prove myself so well. Now you go and pull your support out from under me.”

“I don’t want you tamed,” I told him, rallying to fix things, if I could. “That’s impossible and wrong in a thousand ways!”

To my shock and horror, the Master put his hands over his face and let out a sound of pure anguish. It was despair and hopelessness distilled to a single note. I’d never heard him make a noise like that, ever, and it sent a burning spearhead through both my hearts. But then he dropped his hands and met my gaze, proud even when his pain made his eyes leak. “If I could only hate you,” he said, straightening his back into a rod and putting his head high. “But, I can’t. I never could.”

I swallowed and nodded. Equal ground, anyway, even if it hurt to walk on it. “If only I could just run,” I commiserated. “But, there’s nowhere far enough.”

Silence.

Very slowly, the Master and I came to stand together, both of us looking out over the heather and silver landscape. I reached for his hand, and he met me without hesitation, without even checking. Our fingers threaded and gripped.

“What would I have to do?” I asked simply.

“What would I have to be?” He parried softly.

 

**

 

“What the hell happened?” Jack asked, holding the basket higher so I could pitch berries into it with more accuracy. “You’ve been wandering like a black-eyed shadow for two days, and the Master’s gone all snappy and strange. Neither of you have slept, either.”

“I told you we were complicated,” I said, pausing a moment to close my eyes against a fresh wave of pain. “Both of us expect too much, I suppose.”

“Uh-huh,” Jack said. “It’s pretty clear to me there’s nothing physical now, even if you let me believe it. So, without the physical, there’s only the emotional.”

“Jack,” I said, overwhelmed and exasperated and downright cross. “It’s not always about the physical.”

Jack gave a little laugh and took over my berry picking. “So, it never has been for you two,” he surmised correctly. “Only, maybe you’d like it to be? Maybe he would?"

“He doesn’t want me that way,” I protested.

“How would you know?” Jack leaned on the berry fence and looked up at the brilliant sky as if to search it for answers. “You’re too close to the problem, Doctor. A man like the Master doesn’t reveal his secret heart, especially to an enemy who’ll probably use it.”

“I wouldn’t hurt him!”

“Not out of spite, but you’d do it in a red hot minute to teach him a lesson,” Jack said. “And, so would he.”

I had to admit that was the truth. It made me feel even worse. I was sick of feeling like this, even sick of myself.

“It must be horrible to live so long with a view of forbidden treasure,” Jack continued on casually. “Both of you revolving around each other and always pulling closer no matter how hard you try not to.” He picked a bunch of grapes and added them to my basket, his face thoughtful. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be apart.”

“Why not?” I demanded, getting angry again. “All we do is cause each other misery!”

“So?” Jack gave me a wide-eyed look of impatience. “Doctor, you and he are the only ones left, as you both like to talk about.”

“I don’t see your point.” I snatched the basket back and began tossing random berries in it, so irritated and angry I couldn’t see straight. “So we’re the only ones, so what?”

“So, it seems more like destiny than accident,” he parried. “Or, don’t you believe in destiny anymore? Did traveling and meddling all over the universe prove destiny to be a load of shite?”

“Shut up,” I said, rounding on him. “You have no idea, Jack, just none! Your human comprehension isn’t good enough!” I grabbed his collar and hauled him closer, just seething and at my absolute limit. “You think we’re going to solve this thing by going into each other’s backsides, hm? That if we only lay hands all over each other that we can forget the tragedy, the pain we’ve caused each other and everyone else?” I shook him a little, aghast at myself and unable to stop. I couldn’t stop. “It’s not that easy! Every time I kiss him it’s like I lose part of my soul!”

Jack grabbed my hand and wrenched us apart only to keep hold of me. “Doctor,” he said quietly while I shuddered and panted. “You do lose part of yourself every time you try for more. But, you idiot, so does he.” He pulled me closer and put an arm around my shoulders, drawing me in for a very gentle, very non-sexual hug. “You both have to give up. It’s that easy. Just give up.”

I smashed my face in Jack’s neck, feeling broken and hopeful in the same moment. “Give up,” I repeated. “What happens if I give up and he destroys me?”

“He’ll be destroyed too, if it’s any consolation.” Jack patted my head kindly and kissed my temple. “So, what a good thing it’ll be to start over, right?”

 

**

 

I went to the temple. I had no other recourse but to follow Haddon’s path. The Not-Coincidence kept pointing me there with old words on an even older theme. I took no guards, not even Jack, but I dared to imagine even the worst assassin would have taken one good look at me and decided I was best left alone.

_Although Haddon understood his mate’s regard, and returned it, he didn’t understand why they’d been betrothed at such an early age._

I sat in the middle of the temple, right on the cold stone floor, and considered that passage in something akin to detached panic. “Why?” I asked, hearing my voice bounce and echo. There was no one here to see me, hear me, to witness my utter sense of loss.

“You finally ask it out loud,” I heard a woman’s voice say. She walked around me and knelt, and I felt waves of pure goodness radiating from her. Her long, black and silver cloak kept her body and face covered. “He would never tell you, so I suppose I will,” she went on. Gracefully, the woman copied my stance and sat across from me with her legs folding inward.

“Who are you?” I asked. At this point I had no eloquence or care left.

“I’m Death,” she answered. “The one your beloved Koschei follows with such faith and trueness.” She shifted a little and lowered her hood, showing me a face that could stop Time Itself with beauty. “You want to know how he met me, how he came to belong to me, don’t you, Theta?”

“Please,” I whispered. I wasn’t afraid of her, though she stood for all I feared. And, I believed she was exactly who she claimed to be.

Death tilted her head and smiled a little at me. “You would have made a good servant, too. I chose you, originally.” She clasped her hands together in her lap. “When you and Koschei were only boys, a schoolmate tried to drown him in the reflecting pool at the academy. You don’t remember it, of course; I took your memory of it at Koschei’s request.”

The Master’s fear of water, then.

“The boy was jealous of Koschei. He waited until Koschei was alone, and held him under water.” Death looked into me, and her power filled me with awe and wonder. “You came by, saw what was happening, and dove in to save Koschei. But, the boy wouldn’t stop. No matter what you did, he wouldn’t let go of Koschei. In fear for your friend, you took the boy by the hair and smashed him into a corner of the reflecting pool. Over and over and over you crushed him, until he moved no more.”

I swallowed back a surge of raw bile. I didn’t remember this at all, but truth resonated within me so strongly I knew not to deny her words.

“I came to take the boy’s soul to the Gathering Place, and saw you standing there with blood on your hands. I thought you would make a servant capable of dealing me out with justice.” Death paused and lifted her chin. Her liquid eyes shuttered. “But, Koschei, weak and more than half drowned, pleaded with me to spare you that life. He didn’t think your soul could take being my servant. He asked to take your place, and I accepted.” She smiled at me again. “I accepted because he hadn’t any allowance in his core for me to _not_ accept. You meant that much to him, and his willpower, even at such a young age, was already that strong.”

“He had to walk by that pool every day to teach his students,” I whispered with numb lips. “He had to pass by the scene of his own near-execution, the only one to remember what happened.”

“Yes, and I know it was hard on him. The drums were already taking his reason, his quietude. Koschei’s spirit loved the stillness, the quiet, and he was thrown into noise that would never leave him.” Death shook her head sadly. “People all over the universe think I’m cruel, but I have to exist, Theta. Without me there is nothing that would ever grow. And, Koschei, though his methods brought my more painful aspects, still serves me absolutely. He believes that if he falters for one moment to be true to me, that I’ll come back and claim you.”

“Oh, my God,” I said. It was all I could say.

“But, Koschei has fulfilled his obligation,” Death went on. “He’s paid up. He can stop, now, if he wishes. I certainly won’t refuse his work, but I expect nothing more of him.”

“Then, tell him,” I pleaded.

“I have tried,” she informed softly. “He comes to this conclusion by slow and hard work. Let him understand in his own time.” Death lowered her head and looked into me once more. “And, don’t condemn him for being my agent. He does what you can only do under extreme duress. He’s taken your place willingly, without any thought of reward or respite. Like a wild animal, Koschei only reacts.”

Death stood, holding her hand out to show that I shouldn’t get up. “You can dance around each other, taking and dealing hits until Time rots, Theta, but you cannot sever the bonds you both put into place with self sacrifice. I’ve never seen two spirits so united, not since Time created me. I daresay I never will.”

Death faded away before my eyes, turning to nothingness in mere seconds. The quiet threatened to swallow me whole. Numb, I struggled to my feet and stood there a moment, trying to assimilate and orient.

This put so much perspective into my strained and bleeding hearts that I didn’t know if I could ever comprehend it, any of it. All I knew was that I had to see the Master.

Now.


	9. Chapter 9

I found him in his bedroom, at his desk, drawing up blueprints for a medical building. Brow furrowed and lips tight, he made a perfectly straight line without a ruler. He could do that, I’d noticed lately. He could also draw perfect circles. “What time do you call this?” He asked, glancing at the water clock unnecessarily. “You were absent during the planning for the Flower Ceremony.”

“I was at the temple,” I said, drinking in the sight of him. The magnitude of his sacrifice to me resonated in my chest. “I had some thinking to do. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”

“I told everyone you were at the temple anyway,” he said, smiling a little. “It’s a good excuse, worship.”

“Yeah, I’d say so.” I sat on the edge of his desk gingerly, careful to not upset his papers and inks. “When you’ve got the time, I’d like to talk to you.”

Again the Master glanced at the clock. “Give me two hours. I promised I’d get rough plans to the city commission by then.”

“Okay.” I slid off the desk. “I have to go see about dinner anyway. Back in two hours or less.”

“Fine,” he answered distractedly, waving me away.

I promptly went down to the kitchens to speak to Hann. She smiled at me as I came in, motioning me to a chair. “My lord adjudicator,” she said. “It’s good to see you. Do you have a special menu for the emperor tonight?”

“Yes, I do,” I said, thinking of the Master’s childhood food choices. I took up her nearest cookbook and began thumbing through it. “The emperor is very fond of seafood.”

“Oh, yes, he’s often talked to me about getting what he called ‘shrimp’,” Hann confessed. “I don’t think we have such a creature here.”

“That’s fine.” I put the book down. “How about the best fish available?”

“That, I can do,” she said. “When should I deliver it?”

“Two hours,” I said, getting up. “Some sort of good bread, too, I should think.”

“I will make certain there is excellent bread as well,” she promised.

“Thanks.” I went out into the hall and snapped my fingers, throwing my mind out for my TARDIS. I’d never tried to summon her this way, and wondered if she’d cooperate.

My fears were groundless. My TARDIS appeared quickly. I got in, knowing the Master would have taken note of her disappearance from his bedroom. If I did this right I’d be back before he could really worry or get pissed off.

Then, I was off to Earth for the best shrimp, the only shrimp, actually. No other planet had anything of the sort. I bought six pounds of it from a little French shop, and also half a dozen lobsters from a special dispensary in Maine. Then, I went to the oceanography outlet in Lower Canada, a place I’d visited while still possessed of big teeth and hair, and bought living shrimp and lobster from them, dumping all the needed food for them in a separate tank in my science labs.

Next on the list, horses. He’d expressed a desire for them, so I went to the proper eras in Earth’s timeline for the division of the breeds. It seemed to take forever to get twelve prime examples of each breed on the TARDIS, and I was sweating hard upon the completion of that task. My time machine wasn’t meant to haul livestock. Actually, all these animals I gathered might not survive Seldatia, and as much as I hated the thought of getting them killed on a planet far away from where they were born, I hated the thought of disappointing the Master even more.

I made one more stop, back in France, purchasing the finest wines, champagnes and brandies I could from every perfect vintage. I bought two crates of absinthe, thinking he probably would like it, assuming he’d never tried it before, and promised mentally to look into transferring cattle to the Master’s hobby world. Milk and cheese and beef went a long way to satisfying hunger, and the Seldatians were so akin to human beings I doubted their digestive systems would protest over the new foods.

I came back to Seldatia a bare two minutes after leaving, sticking my head out of the TARDIS to see the Master sitting at his desk with a shadowy look. “Just an errand,” I explained. “Popping over to the inner wilds for a mo, okay?”

“I thought you’d swanned off on me,” he said simply.

“Can’t,” I told him. “Won’t,” I added.

Again, he waved me away.

I promptly took my TARDIS down to the kitchens. When I came out, Hann and all her staff were gathered around it, expressions slack with disbelief and awe. “Only my transport,” I said, carrying out the shrimp and lobster. “This, my dear Hann, is shrimp.”

Hann collected herself readily, and all her people gathered around for a quick introductory lesson in how to prepare them. I wrote out some instructions on cooking the things, stumbling only a little on free-styling Seldatian calligraphy. “A lot of heat makes shrimp too tough and small,” I said. “Really, the emperor probably likes them grilled or scorched in butter.”

Hann took up a single shrimp and tore the legs off like I’d shown her, then snipped off the head. “These taste good?” She said doubtfully.

“They are very good when done right,” I said with a wink. “Don’t panic about serving them. If you ruin them, I’ll just get more later. I’m only taking a chance here, you understand?”

“You want to please your mate,” Hann said softly. She drew herself up and looked at all her waiting women. “Did all of you understand what our Lord Adjudicator said about the shrimp and lobster?”

The women immediately gave answers to the affirmative. All of them looked eager to try cooking a new meat. Hann turned back to me, smiling. “We’ll do our best,” she promised.

“Good enough,” I said, kissing her forehead and making her blush. I then darted back into my TARDIS and plotted for the Master’s fenced in grasslands.

 

**

 

The horses were far less spooky about new terrain then I thought they’d be. They exited without much fuss, and even stood still while I erected laser gates to keep the separate breeds apart. I gathered a contingent of farmers and gave them a crash course on the animals, stressing the need to keep them from interbreeding or wandering until I could come back and help them. By the time I finished, it was nearly dinner time.

I took the TARDIS back to the Master’s bedroom and came out. He had one look at me and sat straight up. “You’re filthy,” he proclaimed flatly. “You’ve sweated so much your clothes are wet. Go take a shower or I won’t eat with you.”

“Okay.” Feeling pleased with myself, I grabbed a white silk svond from his closet and went into the bath. He suspected nothing, and his ill mood only struck me as endearing now that I knew what he’d done for my sake.

As I soaped up, I considered what he’d gone through with no thought to reward. I didn’t think I had as much fortitude and self sacrifice in me, no matter what I’d accomplished in my life. He’d bested me, there. He’d bested me in a lot of ways, actually. Perhaps it was only right that I take Jack’s advice and give up to him.

I examined myself for hair regrowth and found nothing. Still wet, I slathered on the traditional oils and let them soak in while cleaning my teeth. The black eyeliner went on as smooth as satin across glass. I looked at myself in the mirror, thinking of how the Master had likened my eyes to looking into the abyss.

I hoped he didn’t feel that way anymore, but what could I do to stop that?

Wearing the svond, barefoot, I padded back out into his bedroom and tossed my clothes into the corner where the laundry people would retrieve them in the morning. “Getting hungry?” I asked him quietly.

“I could eat a horse,” he replied, which made me snigger internally.

“I guess I could arrange that,” I said. I peered over him, looking at his blueprints. “Oh, that’s brilliant,” I said, pointing to the schematics he had set for waste disposal. “Solar powered incineration timed for the hottest part of the day with magnification lenses. That ought to keep the germs and pollution at a minimum. Well done.”

“There’s no real way to stop pollution,” he said, sounding gratified and frustrated at once. My praise had meant something even though he felt upset with his solution. “I hate progress, sometimes. It means no more clean air. Seldatia is perfectly pure, and I’d like to keep it that way.” He rolled up his blueprints and opened his door to hand them off to a guard. “Take these down to the elders in the Planning Room,” he instructed. He shut the door and came back in to stretch and give a groan. “Your excellent back massage wore off,” he informed. “All I had to do was give in to some frustration and to stand over another map table for a few hours.”

No condemnation, no hatefulness, no allusion to the awkward and painful business between us, only a simple relation of the production at hand and a thinly veiled desire for another massage.

The Master asked me for the easiest things without asking at all, allowing me to misunderstand if I wanted, and expecting nothing.

And, he always had.

“I’ll give you another massage, if you want,” I promised.

The Master lowered his arms and looked at me hard. “There’s something different about you today,” he claimed. “Could it be you found a little bit of the comfort of ceremony in the temple?”

“You know the comfort of ceremony and gods,” I replied. “I sort of tapped into that this afternoon.”

“Good,” he said with succinct honestly. “Worship of anything is better than atheism; our people believed in nothing, and look at how poor their lives proved to be.” He ran a hand through his short hair and mussed it slightly. “My belly is empty. I hope dinner comes soon. What did you order for us?”

“Good stuff,” I told him. No sooner did I say it, a knock came at the door. I answered to find one of Hann’s women. She winked at me and put the tray in my hands. “I think we did what you wanted,” she whispered.

“Thanks,” I whispered back, and brought the tray in after firmly shutting the door.

“What is it?” The Master came forward with absent curiosity, whisking the cover off. We both stared down into a heap of what looked and smelled like perfect shrimp scampi with a main dish of boiled lobster, side bowls of garlic butter, broiled fish, wild rice and the native, tender pink beans of this world.

“You went out and got me Earthly delights,” the Master announced. “That was your TARDIS errand.”

“Yep,” I said, carrying the tray out to the balcony.

We took opposing places at the tray and began cracking lobsters open. The Master, humming his approval, sat at the same time I did and began an enthusiastic sampling of all Hann had offered us. “Dear fucking Christ,” he said after two bites.

“Yeah, it’s good,” I agreed. “Hann took instruction on shrimp and lobster like a pro.”

The Master slit open his broiled fish to let clam stuffing fall out onto his plate. “Oh,” he breathed. “I’ve tried to explain the perfection of clams. They apparently took me to heart.”

“Yeah, looks that way,” I said, copying him. I hadn’t instructed upon clams. Hann was a kitchen genius.

We ate and ate and ate. I beheld with utmost pleasure the way the Master enjoyed this meal. He relished it with a sort of enthusiasm that made me wish I’d arranged this earlier. But, as much as he liked it, he didn’t lose his decorum. I was so glad he’d been able to stop eating absolutely everything in order to balance out his botched resurrection.

“So,” he said as he wiped his hands and took up a glass. He looked at the white wine and smiled. “More Earthly delights. This should be a good vintage.”

I held out my own glass and he poured for us. We sampled it together. “Oh, yeah,” he murmured. “What should I do for my own apology, Doctor?”

“You think this is an apology?” I grinned at him. “I guess it is, yeah. I don’t need one from you, though.”

“Good, because I’m shit at them,” he replied, smiling back.

I felt a giggle leave me, which only made him smile more.

“Feel like walking?” I asked. “Nothing strenuous, just a stroll.”

“I could.” The Master rolled his head to loosen an apparent stiffness in his neck. “It might feel good to stretch my legs. Standing and sitting all day is bothersome and I don’t like it.”

“You always were a bit sporty.” I remembered him as a child who could climb any tree in mere moments. In our athletics classes he was the first up the rope and downright dangerous in gymnastics. Naturally, he’d hated team sports. “Do you remember hitting Merrikalandrinel with the javelin?”

“I hated that whiny sod,” the Master said as he got up. “Teacher’s pet and student’s pest; I always regretted I didn’t hit him in the head rather than his shoulder.”

“Just made him whinge more,” I said, remembering. “Got others to carry his books for him because of his injured shoulder. Never mind he had another arm to use.”

The Master grinned at the floor a moment. “I hit him in his dominant side, Doctor. He was left handed exclusively.”

“You fiend,” I murmured.

“He should have cultivated his right just like everyone else,” the Master defended. He grabbed his cassock-like over robe and donned it gracefully. “Where shall we go for our after dinner stroll?”

“Oh, out to the enclosed pastures,” I suggested. “I brought a surprise back for you.”

“More splendor? We should fight often.” The Master preceded me, his long garments sweeping out. He looked every inch the confident and powerful emperor. And, while he seemed casual, I sensed in him an underlying frission of uncertainty, even fear. He didn’t know what I was up to, and he’d already admitted he felt very afraid of me. He was braver than he knew, far braver than I’d ever proven.

He was quiet, walking with his hands behind his back, our half a dozen guards hanging well away from eavesdropping at his behest. He thought to indulge me in private conversation if I wanted it, but I was uncertain what to say. I immersed myself in taking pleasure in our surroundings, in the dying sun’s warmth, the moisture molecules seeping up with our footsteps, in the low-key, hushed birdsong all around. Seldatia was a beautiful, beautiful place, and seemed very capable of healing the soul right about now.

The Master stopped and looked all the horses grazing, at his men bringing them water and making large, fenced in places for the separate breeds. He blinked, and then blinked again. “You’ve brought me horses,” he murmured.

“Even wild mustangs,” I said happily. “They aren’t broken for riding, not a single one. I thought you might like to do that.”

The Master’s lips twitched. “Me?” He turned and headed for the mustangs immediately, his smile growing.

I watched with contentment as the Master instructed his men to take descriptions of the horses to the city, and to warn everyone not to hunt them. He told them to wait until morning and let the mustangs go before coming back to me and meeting my eyes. “They aren’t meant to be tamed,” he explained, and I heard an unspoken question.

“Some things shouldn’t be,” I agreed, looking down into those wild and feral eyes that had always been my undoing in one way or another. “And, some things really ought to be,” I followed up, seeing he understood very well I’d referred to myself with that one.

The Master tilted his head, his gaze growing thoughtful, considering. “You do know who you’re asking,” he warned.

“I figure you’re an expert,” I said.

He smiled fleetingly, and I saw a glimmer of temptation take hold of him. “You’re such a tease,” he murmured. “Maybe I don’t want to tame you.” He reached out to smooth my clothing at the shoulder, which had somehow become wrinkled and creased in the last few hours. “Housebroken is something else entirely,” he added wryly. “I’ve never known anyone so capable of going from perfect to rumpled so quickly.”

Safer topics now, but I’d set him to thinking.

“I can’t help it, honestly,” I defended. “It just happens.”

“I know.” The Master turned and crooked his elbow at me. “Come along, you odd piece of arm candy. It’s time for bed.”

“The sun isn’t fully down yet,” I complained, but I took his arm feeling exceptionally happy.

 

**

 

I slept with boneless abandon, waking up a few times just because it pleased me to reorient upon the figure sleeping at my side. Close to morning I discarded the last dredges of rest and simply lie upon my side to look at him.

The Master.

The boy who understood me and chose to spare me Death’s influence. I was frightening to him, but he still trusted me.

Carefully, I rested my hand over his right heart, feeling the strong and steady beat. He certainly looked artful laying there, the sheet thrown over his groin but nowhere else. The morning light caressed his elegant musculature. He had powerful, developed arms and legs. His flat stomach no doubt pleased his sense of vanity. I dropped my hand there to feel his mostly hidden abdominal muscles. He was warm and smooth and pleasingly hard. I thought about the brief instances I’d been against this body, and how good he felt.

“You’re really asking for the devil to cut loose on you,” the Master murmured sleepily.

“Already did, met him,” I informed. “You aren’t him.”

“You met the Devil,” the Master repeated, his eyes opening slowly. “Why don’t I doubt that?” He rolled atop me quick and smooth as anything, and straddled my hips with his hard legs. As was his wont, he took a moment to just look at me, and I knew from his face that he liked what he saw. Being on top pleased him, in any fashion. Dominating me had to be good for him.

He smiled as I continued to lie there and wait for whatever he did. “What do you call this, a surrender?” He asked.

“Yes.”

The Master rolled his eyes a little. “Liar. But, thank you for the gesture.”

“Not lying,” I assured. “I give up. And, do you know what? It feels really good.”

“Does it?” The Master considered me a moment more. “What if I revert on you?”

“Is that a real danger?”

“Sometimes.” He leaned down to breathe me in, close to my neck. “Patchouli and burning stars,” he murmured. “That’s what you smell like, Doctor.”

“I didn’t know.” I didn’t, truly. Possibly, there was an immunity to one’s own scent. It would explain why the Master didn’t know he smelled of copal.

“Mmm,” he murmured. “Right now there’s some fear mingling in your scent, and your artron is stirring up, lending electricity to the mix. It’s delightful.”

“Glad you like it.” That caged feeling wasn’t entirely a panic-provoking thing anymore. I felt very curious as to what he’d do with me once he figured out I was telling him the truth about surrendering.

“The last time I smelled you like this, you were blond,” he went on. His voice touched my throat, caressed the flesh.

“You made me fearful and reactive,” I pointed out.

“That was the whole point,” he admitted.

Because he wasn’t moving, and because I really wanted to touch him anyway, I lifted a hand and stroked the back of it down his jaw. He closed his eyes and leaned into my contact like a cat. “It wouldn’t be a far thing to have you purr,” I murmured. “Sometimes I look at you and see the cat spirit.”

“Flatterer,” He murmured back lazily, following the next sweep of my hand, too. “I’ll purr if you treat me right,” he added.

“Does this mean you’ll tame me?” I asked, stroking down his head and his neck just to watch him arch into it.

“I’ll think about it,” he promised.

“Please?” I took my sliding touch down his back, and he really seemed to enjoy that.

“Why would I give you an answer? You’ll quit trying to persuade me if I do.” He collapsed mostly beside me, somewhat on top of me, and curled up a little. His lips also curled, and his smile held a lot of wicked pleasure as well as some puzzlement. “Help me to understand your sudden fixation on being tamed,” he invited.

“Well, it’s never been accomplished,” I pointed out. “And, you’re my biggest weakness. Logical to combine the two.”

“Fine,” he acquiesced softly. “But, what’s your motivation, Doctor?”

“You tailor everything brilliantly,” I answered. “You’ve worn me out. I don’t have any good struggling left in me. I want the peace of letting the darkness descend.” And, despite new information, the revelation given to me by Death, and the way the Master had set out to improve himself, I told him the truth here. The seduction of him I just couldn’t put off any longer. I’d done remarkably well to hold off this long.

He stared into me for what seemed like forever, his eyes flickering with thought, with consideration of my words. “I’m giving you one final chance to change your mind,” he said at last, his voice so low I had to strain to hear him. “Once I set myself to do this thing you want, I own you.”

I felt myself smile. “You already own me. You have for centuries, I think.”

The Master pulled in a quick, unsteady breath. “I’m quite certain you’ve never said anything like that to me before.”

“I haven’t,” I agreed. “Sorry it took me so long. I’m selfish and pretty wrapped up in myself. Being here with you, in a linear life, has been eye-opening. I didn’t just get to see you at my leisure. I got to see myself, too.”

Slowly, the Master closed his eyes. A small tremor went through him.

“Master?”

“Give me a moment,” he whispered, keeping his eyes shut. “Nine hundred years is a long time to wait for something.”

I felt ashamed, then, but I pushed the feeling back as something that possibly would interfere with progress.

His eyes popped open, and he refocused on me afresh. “You haven’t said how you want tamed,” he pointed out softly. “I’d hope the part of you that wanted hurt is accepting I’m not willing to do-.”

“No, I’m okay,” I promised. “I’ll do that part on my own. I’m good at it by now.”

The Master gave me a lopsided grin. “You just don’t want to be in control anymore,” he said, nailing it. “I’ve shown you I don’t have to abuse any power that I take. That gives you the confidence to hand over the reins, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Made sense.

“All right.” The Master got an arm under my head and made me lie upon him. “Consider yourself conquered, Doctor.”

I hadn’t realized what a relief it would be to hear that come out of his mouth. A big breath left me. I clutched his hard, slender hip and let my eyes slide shut. “Thanks,” I said, having no good way to express it.

“You had a good run,” he said soothingly. “Better than anyone else, I imagine.” Gently, he stroked my hair. “I think I know exactly how to give you the powerlessness you want without crushing all the delightful, stubborn principles you’ve so carefully nurtured all these years.” He gripped the back of my neck and gave me a little squeeze. “I’d be losing if I eliminated my moral compass.”

 

**

 

He’d promised to give me a good lesson, one that I’d never forget. All I had to do was wait for him to finish tying up loose ends. He intended to give Zaeus, Sigglis, and Matreus joint rule over Seldatia, with the understanding that we might come back in the future. I expected the men to easily surrender their rule if we returned. And, I thought it likely we’d make several trips back to Seldatia. It was where we’d come to an understanding, after all.

Jack stuck his head inside the TARDIS and grinned at me. “Staying,” he said. “I’ll wait for your counterparts.”

“You don’t have to. What if they don’t make it back?” It wasn’t that I wanted Jack on the TARDIS, or that I didn’t want him, but I was about to have what I hoped was intense time with the Master, and I wanted nothing to interrupt us.

Jack rolled his eyes at me. “They’ll be back,” he said firmly. “A version of you and a version of him? They’ll probably take me all over the place before putting me off on some star system where I can pick up new entertainment.”

Now I rolled my eyes. “Well, enjoy,” I said, meaning it.

“Yeah…” Jack winked at me. “You do the same, Doc.”

I waved him off and sat in the jump seat, nervous despite the promise of getting what I wanted. The Master was clever and inventive. He could come up with anything to humble me.

The Master strolled into the TARDIS just as I’d started pacing, and looked at me with a knowing smile. “Anxious?” He took off his gloves and tossed them onto the control panel closest to him. “I can smell fear on you.”

“I’m sure,” I muttered, not able to quit moving. “And no, I haven’t changed my mind. I’m just…”

“Worried as hell,” he finished for me, chuckling a little. “Relax. You know victory tempers my hand.”

That was true. I felt my tension ratcheting down just a notch.

“Charming,” he drawled, evidently meaning it. He walked up to me and stopped, looking slightly up into my eyes with his hands behind his back. “Have a little confidence in my methods, my dear.”

“I do,” I protested.

“I know,” he assured. “You finally showed me as much.” He put out his arm for me to take. “Now, this TARDIS has countless rooms. Do you have any favorites?”

“Uhh…” I automatically linked up with him, and was surprised to find touching him alleviated some of my panic. “A few, I guess.”

“Take me to them one by one,” he ordered.

“Okay.” I started for the pool, because I’d most recently created it and it stood out in my mind. “Is this going to hurt?” I asked. “I know you said you didn’t want to indulge your darker side, but for some reason I’m thinking it’ll hurt anyway.”

The Master shook his head and smiled as if he couldn’t believe me. “No, it’s not going to hurt,” he said lowly.

“Because I’m really okay with that if that’s what has to happen,” I blabbed on, unable to stop my foolish chatter. Being nervous made me worse with the verbal diarrhea. “Pain is a good correctional tool sometimes, even if it’s unpleasant. And, sometimes pain is the only thing that’ll do the job. Do you think that’s the case with me?”

“It’s not going to hurt,” the Master repeated, still smiling slightly.

We entered the pool room.

“Are you sure?” I pressed, letting go to face him. “I mean, I’d think you’d have some urge to really punish me.”

“Punish you,” the Master echoed. He eyed me a moment before putting a hand up to the collar of his svond. “I can certainly do it, if that’s what’ll make you feel better, but not all punishment is as painful as you seem to think.” He kicked off his footwear and drew off the svond, standing before me stark naked. “Take off your clothes, Doctor.”

I obeyed that prompt with alacrity, convinced something truly appalling must be in the works. But, like I’d said, I was all right with that. Anything to get more on an even keel with him, to pay him back for a kindness I couldn’t even admit to knowing about him.

“No chlorine,” he commented as he crouched by the edge of the pool. “That’s excellent.” Without further ado, he stood and hopped into the water.

“Look, I appreciate-.” Wait a moment. “Hey, you’re afraid of water,” I protested, getting in with him.

“I can stand, here,” he replied. “Also, you’re here with me.” He dragged a raft off the edge and pushed it between us. “Get on, on your back,” he instructed.

Again, I obeyed. This time I was a little clumsy, and the wet vinyl kept threatening to let me slide off. I conquered it, though, and flopped onto my back making huge waves. I looked up into his smiling face and felt a little of my concern dropping away. He had nothing on his handsome features but the humor of familiar expectation. Nostalgia, really.

I’d started drifting. The Master dragged me back. “Do you hear that?” He asked.

I listened, hearing nothing but us and the hum of the TARDIS. “Only the two of us,” I admitted.

“Exactly,” he said. “Get used to that sound, Doctor. It’s going to be a long time before I let you drag a noisy human on board, if I ever do at all.” He dropped a wet hand to the center of my chest, his fingers spreading slowly. “It’s just you and me, now. Maybe it always was.”

“I don’t want anyone else causing a disruption,” I told him.

“Then, our wishes are the same,” he murmured. His hand dragged downward, and a shot of need lodged in my groin. Before I could even assimilate that, however, I felt the tip of a single finger stroke down my cock. That small, small touch meant worlds from him, and blood raced to the site so fast my head spun. I arched toward him, but the raft only thwarted me, making me sink farther downward instead of up.

Diabolical.

The Master’s low, pleased chuckle set my nerves on fire. “Greedy little hedonist,” he said fondly. “Lie still.”

Panting, I made myself quit moving. Never had the ceiling of my TARDIS been so poignant.

“Good,” he praised, and I found I wanted to hear it again. “Now, close those pretty eyes,” he added. “And, stay still. If you move, I’ll quit. You can talk, however, and make all the noise you want.”

Fortunate, for the moment I felt his dangerous mouth enveloping me, I groaned aloud. I felt weightless. He applied suction, twirling his tongue around me with expertise I’d never felt before. In seconds I lost all clues of where I was except the lapping of water and the pressure of his hot, slick mouth. “Oh, God,” I moaned. “Master!” My voice echoed crazily, further adding to the disorientation. Nothing existed but him.

He hummed around me, and I couldn’t help jerking at the unexpected vibration. He’d reduced me to only a dick. But, no, there was something else. The gland tucked up behind my prostate began to swell, and the two rubbed against each other lightly. It was maddening and delicious, and I’d only felt the barest stirrings there before. No one had ever stimulated me this much this fast.

 _Good boy_ , he said in my mind. _Make yourself slick for me_.

As if I could help it. I heard a lot of nonsense leaving my mouth, and I gripped the raft so hard I heard it creaking. Yet, he still sucked on me, coaxing me higher and higher toward a release I knew would probably feel good enough to kill me. I shook all over now, trembled with wonderful weakness. My legs slid apart and over the sides of the raft to dangle and float in the water, but I couldn’t help it. I felt his arm sliding underneath to keep me braced. He’d known I’d collapse.

Beautiful, clever Master. Gorgeous, talented Master.

Oh, God, if he’d tried to conquer me this way centuries ago, I’d have lost already. His cupping, stroking tongue, the periodic, light scraping of his teeth to remind me of my vulnerability, the incredible, pulsing suction… Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Yes, good idea. He should really, really fuck me. That would be brilliant, if only I could get my legs far enough apart. But, I’d lost motor function, and he’d ordered me to not move. The slickness oozed out of me, now.

I cried out when he took his mouth away. Disoriented, my head lolling, I forgot about his command to lie still, and tried to reach for him. He caught my arm and forced it back down, smiling with reddened lips and triumphant eyes. Then, before I knew what he intended, he wrapped an arm around my waist and shoved the raft free. On their own volition, my legs twined around him. “Master!” I gasped, thrusting against him helplessly.

Still smiling, the Master bent my arms behind my back and made me arch, but I didn’t let go of him with my legs. He couldn’t make me.

The Master chuckled, his voice made dark and delicious. I felt his mouth touch down between my pectorals, his tongue tasting me with exquisite sloth. _Oh, again_ , he urged. _Say it again, Doctor_.

“Master!” I meant every syllable. “Yes, Master!” Anything he wanted, anything to get this from him; I’d never felt this alive, this raw, this free. Surrender was good, oh, so good. I couldn’t believe it.

“Take my shoulders,” he ordered softly, letting my arms go. And, when I managed to obey, he wrapped his own arms around my back. “Put your head on me,” he urged. “Breathe.”

I pressed my forehead to his neck and breathed, as he said to do. My whole body shook. He smelled wonderful, and felt far stronger than me. I hadn’t known I could feel so much in so little time. No wonder he seemed smug always. He’d seen my naivety, and indulged it, and all the while fully aware he could make me a trembling mess. I’d been right to imagine he’d know what to do with me.

I felt us moving. He walked us into deeper water. Gently, he took me by the wrists and made me lay my arms fully out on the edge of the pool. I let my head fall back onto it a bit too hard, but it didn’t matter. Finesse was his area, not mine, and especially not now.

His lips upon my throat cause an earthquake inside me. Never was a Time Lord so vulnerable as when he exposed his neck. That twirling tongue made me gasp, and those teeth… Oh, God, those teeth. Bite, bite, bite, soft and firm, hard or gentle, making my skin tingle and my groin coil with heat. I wanted to touch him, but he held my wrists to the concrete. He sucked a hickey to life right under my ear, making me keen and writhe and say his name over and over.

The Master, laughing quietly, pulled my lobe between his teeth and bit down. At the same moment, he dragged his flat stomach across my aching cock. For a hearts-stopping second I thought I’d come, but he gave just too little sensation for that. Instead, I thrashed and bucked against him like a wild thing, desperate for more. My blood pounded in my ears until I could barely hear. All I could hear, in fact, was the sound of my hearts and his low murmurs of approval, of assurance. _Even when you give up, you fight_ , he said in my mind. _Good for you, Doctor_.

I might have gathered enough sense to give a reply if he hadn’t then immediately captured my mouth with his. I drowned in him, in his demanding lips. This was the intimacy I craved, the closeness to him I really wanted. He was tenderness and a raging, consuming fire, boiling my blood and melting my pelvis. I sought him lower, feeling for the tip of him, begging to find him with every trembling muscle that still obeyed me. I felt my opening flexing, greedy and grabbing…

He thrust into me and swallowed my shocked, joyful sob mouth to mouth. Paralyzed with the stretching impalement, I couldn’t even move my lips to kiss him back. His presence inside me was perfect, so perfect. Tears slid from my eyes. He kissed one trail, then the other, murmuring things I couldn’t quite hear. But, I heard what he meant. _Yes, Doctor. Good, Doctor. Sweet, sweet Doctor_.

I thought of him coming inside me and nearly fell apart with wanting it. “Master!”

He pulled me off the rim of the pool and let me wrap my arms around him. I surged, taken by the desire to taste him while he filled me, and kissed his face, his neck, anywhere I could reach, anywhere I could worship. He held my arse in his hands and let me, murmuring and smiling and arching to allow the exploration. Generous Master, indulgent Master, kind and understanding while his cock kept me stretched open. His rewards came as swiftly as his punishments, and I took that lesson.

But, he pulled back, keeping my cheeks spread. The slow drag of exit made me cry and claw at his back. I poured my own lubricant, and it was thick enough that the water wouldn’t wash it away. The tip of him hit my prostate, sending a shockwave through me. Insensible, I could only hold on and beg, beg like my life depended on it, and it _did_. “Please, please, please, Master!” I wanted a rhythm, a plundering, hard but slow and savoring. “Oh, God, please!”

He bit my left nipple and shoved back in. I stiffened all over, losing my breath and seeing stars. Then, I turned into liquid, falling backward, but he caught me. One arm just below my waist and the other behind my shoulders, he used my own weight to gain a brutal and beautiful cadence. I couldn’t hold onto him, and just let him fuck me.

It was amazing. I lolled in his grip, groaning, feeling every vein and ripple of him inside me. Each sweet stab took away more and more of my independence. I couldn’t think of anything but him. His strong legs and sharp hip bones, his caging arms, those lips sucking bites onto my chest; I might fly apart if he didn’t hold me.

I had to see his face. Reaching backward, I grabbed for purchase and found the divider rope. It gave me just enough leverage to get my head up. I met his eyes and lost my breath at the fierce possessiveness burning within. Just as well that I never wanted free of him, because he wouldn’t allow it, ever. Yet, lurking behind that soul-swallowing ownership was the devotion he’d proven to me, that he’d professed so casually, telling me it was none of my business.

The Master loved me.

Oh, my God, I loved him, too. Why hadn’t I known I loved him this much? Our gazes locked, and he saw into me. He dropped the arm bracing my shoulders, took hold of my straining cock, and stroked me. “Come for me, Doctor,” he growled. “Come for me right now!”

Screaming and sobbing, I obeyed my Master.

“Oh, yes,” he said, crushing me to him, holding me down and spread. I felt him pumping me full even as I shot my life out. I shook with the twin forces, going blind, going deaf, brilliant, sweet hot boiling pushing into me. Marking me. Claiming me. Taking me.

Taming me, just like I’d wanted.

Oh, dear Christ, I’d never had so much of what I wanted, not in my entire, screwed up life.

“Doctor,” I heard him say as I was gathered up and held. Weak as a kitten, I clung to his back with both arms and buried my face in his lovely neck. I smelled blood, come, our artron, his copal…

“Oh, you glorious thing,” I managed to say. I thought I might faint. Every muscle I owned was shaking. I let my head slide a little. “You’re still in me.”

“You’re not allowed to leak me,” he informed, his voice like honey and gravel. “Five minutes, ten, and you’ll absorb me.”

I felt a ragged laugh break free of my throat. “And, rightly so,” I agreed. I pulled back a little so I could firmly seat upon him again, for he hadn’t lost his erection.

The wriggling of my bottom made him groan and clench me harder. “Not so _very_ tamed,” he said thoughtfully. “But, you ask for what you want with perfect manners.”

The smell of blood was stronger now. “Who’s bleeding?” I asked, now barely able to keep my eyes open.

“You got my back with a fingernail,” he explained, not sounding a bit perturbed. “All that beautiful writhing, Doctor; I hardly knew what to do.”

“Liar,” I whispered. “You knew exactly what to do with me. You must always have.”

“Oh, I’ve thought about how to take you once or twice,” he agreed, totally underestimating and also not hiding it with his tone.

He held me in the water, and every part of me drifted loose except for the intimate mooring down below. I lay there, lazily floating, content down to my bones. This was much better than a bed. I wondered why he’d accepted water as the medium to teach me what I wanted. He could have let me show him the pool and then let me take him somewhere more solid.

“You like water,” he answered softly, his hands now stroking me in a soothing way. “You _are_ water,” he added. And, with that, he gently pushed fully into me again. “I want you flowing into me.”

I smiled, feeling the importance of what he said and loving him for being the better man. “As long as you set me on fire,” I negotiated. There wasn’t much to bargain with, actually. His cock was ready to have me again, and I’d never be able to say no.

The Master laughed lowly as he stroked me back to life. “Oh, burn with me,” he urged. “Burn with me, Doctor.”

 

**

 

EPILOGUE

 

Humans have a lot of contradictory knowledge in their history books and myths, but one gem stood out in my mind. It was a rather long passage in the Christian Bible, in the book of Ecclesiastes, 3:8.

 

**There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under heaven: 2 a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, 3 a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, 4 a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, 5 a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain. 6 a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, 7 a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, 8 a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.**

 

“That’s a bit of obvious,” the Master said, stroking down my arm and twining our fingers together. “And, it didn’t mention a time to surrender to your best enemy.”

I grinned into my pillow before rolling over to face him. “Terrible oversight,” I agreed, leaning in to get his lips.

I didn’t think I’d ever get used to how he’d just let me kiss him. No matter what, he’d allow it. For us it was an intimacy that could overpower any other.

“Mm,” he murmured, pressing his mouth underneath my eye. “You haven’t put your mental shields up against me since we got on your TARDIS. I’m getting addicted to your thoughts as well as your body.”

“I don’t want to hide from you.” I fluffed up our pillows and we stared up into the stars together. He’d insisted we make a joint bedroom, one with a clear ceiling. I was enjoying it quite a lot. “Besides, it seems like I can only be honest with my mind. My lips are rebellious liars.”

“Not always,” he said softly. “Don’t slander those pretty lips; I like keeping them busy.” He slid an arm under me, and we lay there in perfect, perfectly companionable silence. I thought about how much I loved him, and felt him shiver in response.

“You never have to say it,” I told him.

The Master hugged me close for a moment and kissed my forehead. “And, that why I love you,” he whispered, making my hearts beat out of rhythm. “That’s why I love you, Doctor.”

 

END

 

 


End file.
